Tempestuous
by YFate
Summary: Ten years have passed since Sozin’s war ended. Alliances must be forged between embittered nations, and Katara must marry to keep stable the peace. But can she ever find love in the arms of an old enemy? Zutara
1. Chapter 1

**TEMPESTUOUS**

_Summary: Ten years have passed since Sozin's war ended. Alliances must be forged between embittered nations, and Katara must marry to keep stable the peace. But can she ever find love in the arms of an old enemy? (Zutara)_

**Chapter One**

Ten years have passed since last I saw him. He had grown in that time, matured into a handsome young man with a quiet, thoughtful air. He seemed older than his twenty-two years, older and wiser. The eyes he first rested upon me seemed as if they looked upon centuries, but the smile that broke through his serious frown was one I would recognize anywhere.

"Katara!" He closed the distance between us and enfolded me in a hard hug of welcome.

"Aang! It has been far too long!" I stepped back to look again at him, to see how he had fared in the years we had not seen each other, and returned his smile when I saw that he was weighing the changes in me as well.

"It _has_ been too long, Katara," he said warmly, the merry glint in his grey eyes still as devilish as ever. "For I had forgotten how truly beautiful you are!"

I flushed, picturing every bit of dust and dirt on my travel-stained clothing, and teased him, uncomfortable with the compliment. "False flattery has never worked on me, Aang!"

"How well I remember, Katara." His look was slightly wistful. "I have missed my---friend." He lightly touched my cheek, and there was a wealth of understanding in that simple gesture. There had once been a time…but that was long ago, and many things had changed between us.

"I have missed you, too," I said, and impulsively hugged him again. I was startled to realize that he now stood a few inches above me, though he would be considered short by other men, for I, myself, was not very tall. Still, there was solid strength in the arms that enfolded me, and a maturity of bearing I had not known in his younger self.

"I am glad you came. I knew you would." He stepped back as I grabbed one of his hands, worried by the fervency in his low voice.

"Aang, what is it? Is something wrong? Your letter said nothing, just that you needed me. I came as quickly as I could. What has happened? Tell me how I may help."

He patted my hand, an almost fatherly gesture. His eyes were gentle, and showed too much knowledge for one so young. It was easy to forget that he was often more than what he appeared, for he was the Avatar, and bore the burden of many past lives on his young shoulders. "You are always so quick to help others, Katara. You have a generous and kind spirit. Never lose that."

"Aang, whatever it is, it will be all right," I said, hearing the sadness behind his warmth.

"Perhaps it will." He touched my cheek again, and smiled gently, as if to a much younger child. It felt odd, for him to be so serious and mature. Our roles had reversed, in more ways than one. It felt strange, and put a pall upon our reunion. He shook himself, as if shedding the heavy burdens that haunted his every step, and said with a lighter smile, "But all that will keep, Katara. Nothing is so dire that I can't take a few moments to welcome back my oldest friend, and hear all that has been happening in her life."

He pulled me to the table, where a light luncheon had been spread out invitingly. A young woman, dressed in the light linen robes of a novitiate of the Southern Air Temple, came forward to pour the tea as Aang guided me to a low seat. He sat across from me, his saffron robes of state whispering across the smooth stone floor as he settled himself.

He smiled at me, knowing how uncomfortable I was at being served by another, and waved the girl away. "How is the Southern Water Tribe, Katara? Is Gran-Gran still bossing everyone around?"

I bit my lip, still surprised by the stab of sorrow that hit my heart at any mention of the strong old woman, whose death had come suddenly, though it was not unexpected. "She passed away. Two years ago, in her sleep."

"I'm sorry to hear that." And he was, for it was there, in his troubled, grey eyes.

"Thank you. She…I miss her." I distracted myself from too much raw emotion by picking up the delicate cup of tea steaming gently before me. Taking a careful sip, I let the soothing warmth pour down my throat and curl inside my belly.

"Are you then healer for your tribe, now?" Aang redirected the conversation with an adroitness I had never known in him.

"No, actually." I smiled at his surprise. "There is another Waterbender, who came from the Northern Tribe. His name is Wayan, and he knows more of the healing arts than I do. My tribe was lucky to get him."

"Master Pakku has mentioned that many in the Northern Tribe have gone to help out their brothers in the south." Aang offered a dish of fruit and nuts, and I took some with a smile of thanks.

"Yes, they have. Many that came to help have decided to stay and make their homes among us. You would not recognize the village, it has grown so big." I thought fondly of the icy, clean tundra of my snow-wrapped homeland and wished suddenly that I was there, amongst the familiar. It had been many weeks since I first set foot on the wooden boats that had carried me across the icy waters of the South Pole---which had only been the start of my long journey to the Air Temple at Aang's request.

"I am glad that there is new life in your war-torn village. It's a shining example of what people _should_ be doing in healing the bitterness of past enmity, rather than spending time bickering over who has what now that the century-long War is over." Aang scowled into his tea cup, swirling the dark liquid around as if it might hold some type of answer to his many problems.

Sensitive to the bitterness in Aang's low voice, I said gently, "Peace is never easy, Aang. You are doing your best in what must be a rather difficult situation."

"You are ever understanding, Katara. That is what I treasure most about you, and hope that it will help you to understand what I might eventually have to ask of you." Aang's eyes rose to hold mine, and I blinked at the sadness in their dark gray depths.

"Aang, what is it? Tell me." I laid a gentle hand on his, and he seemed about to speak, but we were interrupted as an older monk, dressed much like the woman earlier, swept the curtains aside and bowed deeply.

Aang pulled his hand out from under mine, and nodded courteously to the monk, though his voice was slightly irritated. "What is it, Genshi?"

"Master Aang, word has just arrived from the Fire Nation. You asked to be summoned as soon as they arrived." Genshi bowed again, his black eyes flicking to me and back.

Aang sighed, and waved assent. "Very well. I will receive them in the First Hall. They would take offense at anything less."

"Shall I see if someone can escort our guest to a room and---may I suggest---a bath?" I flushed at the implied criticism, too much aware that his suggestion was a good one. I had not waited to refresh myself before being shown to Aang's presence.

"Yes, yes, whatever she wants." Aang seemed distracted, his words lost in thought as his gaze turned inward. Standing up, he came over to me and gave me a quick kiss on the forehead as I looked up at him. "I have missed you, Katara. There is just so much to do. I have little time. Perhaps we can meet for dinner later? Then we might have some more time to catch up…come, Genshi, I will need your council."

He did not wait for my reply, already sweeping from the room, his long saffron robes swirling across the stone floor. I stared after him, confused and slightly hurt, for it seemed Aang had no time anymore for an old friend. But then I chided myself, remembering just _who_ he was. Aang was the Avatar first and foremost, and the demands on his time were endless. We would have more time later, and I, for one, would be glad to get the road-dust from off my itchy skin.

oooOOoo _One Month Earlier, in the Fire Nation_ ooOOooo

"You seem quite popular, nephew."

Zuko relaxed as his uncle stepped inside the room. He made no reply, but kept staring out the arched windows that provided an uninterrupted view of the rocky heights the castle sat upon. Mist shrouded the lower hills, and only the distant watch-beacons, ever-burning, could be seen through the cloudy gloom. The air was slightly chilly and touched with damp. Winter had been a hard season this year.

There was a rustle behind him as the old general shuffled through the curling parchment that littered the young lord's desk. His secretary, a fussy little man, made an offended noise as Iroh shifted the neat stacks, disrupting the orderly piles.

"Leave us," Zuko ordered without turning around. The secretary abased himself flat on the floor in fearful apology before rising to his feet and scuttling out the door, which he closed firmly behind him. The Fire Lord was not known for his patience.

The old general grunted as he settled himself in one of the padded chairs scattered round the small room. Leaning over, he helped himself to the cooling teapot, pouring a cup of lukewarm ginseng. Holding the delicate cup between his large hands, he warmed the contents until steam gently rose from the heated tea. Taking a long sip, he settled back with a sigh of contentment.

"Ah, ginseng is my favorite. It's kind of you, nephew, to have it here for me." Iroh took a second sip, watching the Lord under half-closed lids.

"I thought jasmine was your favorite, Uncle." Zuko still faced the window, his hands clasped behind his back, deceptively at his ease. His hair, thick and as luxuriant as a girl's, would have hung just past his shoulders if he did not keep it up in the simple topknot he had favored as a boy. He kept his face clean-shaven, disdaining the sideburns and beards the older men wore. Iroh liked the look on his nephew, though he knew Zuko kept it more for expediency, and not for political reasons. Still, everything was politics in the Fire Nation, and it made a good statement that the young Lord would not follow in the footsteps of his father.

"Jasmine _is_ my favorite," Iroh baited, idly taking another sip of the ginseng.

The Lord let that pass. Abruptly switching topics, a particular trait of his, he said, "I must marry."

Iroh eyed the strong young man he had always considered like a son. He waited for the Fire Lord to elaborate.

"I must consolidate the throne. The kingdom is in turmoil. Not all of my father's supporters died with him. The people are restless. They speak of a time when we were great, when our supremacy was unquestioned in the world, and how far we have fallen since the war ended." Zuko spoke in a flat voice, though he had always been a bit touchy about any show of inadequacy or question about his fitness to rule.

"The people are not restless," Iroh said dryly. "It is the court you speak of. How stands the army?"

"They are divided, though they will remain loyal to my hand. But you know that already, don't you, Uncle?" Zuko finally turned his head to fix the wily old general with a piercing look of appraisal.

The Dragon of the West only smiled, and raised his tea cup in salute of his Lord's astuteness. "Proud is the teacher when his prize pupil learns past his teaching."

Zuko smiled slightly at the implied compliment, but it was gone as quickly as it had come, his face an emotionless mask once more. Only his golden eyes could sometimes betray the emotions he kept locked tightly within. He had learned through harsh teaching how to keep his inner self hidden.

The thought made Iroh sad for a moment---that his nephew might never be allowed to let that guard down, for the Court remained the same viscous place of honor and intrigue it always had, though the World itself had changed. He wondered sometimes if it might have been easier for his nephew to have remained an anonymous peasant, rather than have aligned himself with the Avatar Aang to defeat the old Lord and his sister, and claim the throne over their fiery deaths.

But Zuko would never have settled for anything less than what he felt he was entitled to. It was his force of will that had seen him through the difficult first years when he had consolidated his power and forced the rebellious factions in both army and court to accept his rule. Not all in the Fire Nation had accepted Ozai's humiliating defeat and the end of Sozin's War. Others still balked at the Avatar's forced peace and the humiliation, hatred and suspicion the Fire Nation was still looked upon with by the other three nations. They spoke of how far the Fire Nation had fallen since Ozai's defeat, and how little honor was left in their once-great land.

"Silencing the dissidents with a carefully chosen political marriage would go far to heal the breach that separates the various factions, my Lord," Iroh broke into the subject carefully.

"Perhaps." Zuko stalked over to the scattered papers that lay across his ivory-inlaid, black ironwood desk. He shifted through them, idly flipping through the various offers he had received from interested parties. Many sought his favor now that he was Fire Lord, hoping to strengthen their own political ties by allying themselves in marriage to the throne.

"I noticed quite a few offers, my Lord, including a rather interesting one from the father of your sister's friend, Mai." Iroh sat back at his ease, wondering how his nephew might react to that.

Zuko betrayed nothing, only sifting through the pile until he came across a particular scroll bound in yellow ribbons. The old general raised a thick brow, curious as to what the Avatar might want with his nephew.

Working around a hard subject was always a good tactic. "Marrying Mai would do much to quiet the unrest caused by the remaining loyalists who favored and supported the war. Her father was a close advisor to Lord Ozai, and was even rewarded governorship of Omashu when the Earth city surrendered. Marrying his daughter would restore great honor to the family name, and do much to heal the breach between the various factions at court, nephew."

"I can control the court, Uncle," Zuko said tightly, certain of his own strength as he never would have been ten years ago. "The court does not concern me. They can fight and squabble among themselves all they want as long as they know that _I_ am the Fire Lord."

Iroh hid his smile behind his cup of tea as he took another sip. Zuko had changed in the intervening years, and he approved of what he saw. He was a man of strength and purpose, with an iron will the nobles would respect. Weakness was not tolerated in the fiery field of political strife that had always marked a way of life for the fire-fueled Nation of proud warriors. Only the strongest survived, and his nephew had proven time and again that he was more than a match for his dead father.

"It is the world I worry about, Uncle, and the people under my rule. They do not care who I ally myself with so long as I produce an heir. It was the Nation's _people_ who welcomed the Avatar's peace ten years ago. They were tired of the long years of fighting and of losing their sons to my family's unending ambition." Zuko stared down at the scroll, and touched it lightly with sword-calloused fingers.

"You have grown wise, nephew. Your father and your sister never even considered that the people ever had a voice, let alone an opinion, or that it even mattered. The people were just nameless rabble to them, beneath their notice. Your time of poverty has helped shape you, my Lord, and I am pleased with the result. Very pleased." Iroh's wide smile of approval was genuine and his golden eyes were bright with unshed tears. He was proud of this tall young man who had been tempered in the fires of difficulty and hardship to become an unmatched blade of finely forged steel.

Zuko did not acknowledge the compliment, only handing the old Dragon the scroll held in his hand. "Read that, Uncle, and tell me what you think."

Putting down his tea cup, Iroh accepted the letter and unrolled the fine parchment as the Lord walked back over to the window to stand and stare out on the gloomily harsh landscape of his regained home.

The general's bushy grey brows rose as he read the graceful lines of the Avatar's missive. He read the words a second time, pausing to decipher any nuances hidden in the letter's persuasive arguments.

"Well, Uncle?" Zuko finally broke the heavy silence, though he did not turn around to gauge the old man's reaction.

"He makes many a fine argument, my Lord," Iroh said, carefully rolling the crackling parchment back up. "Does the idea displease you?"

"My personal opinion does not matter. It is a political alliance he suggests, not a personal one," Zuko answered tonelessly.

Iroh might try to argue the point of that. Marriage was a very personal thing. But any arguments he made would fall on deaf ears. Zuko had always been rather stubborn about learning things for himself. He would never draw on the experiences of others, never truly trusting any opinion but his own. If the Lord had any faults, it was that he was perhaps _too_ rigid in his beliefs that what he alone knew was important.

"It is not unheard of, this marrying outside our own borders. Many of your forefathers, Zuko, have made alliance with other nations in the past. Why, your great-great-grandmother was an Earth Kingdom princess." Iroh stroked his short, grey beard thoughtfully, wondering if the Lord was truly entertaining the idea.

"This girl is not a princess, Uncle. Far from it, actually," Zuko said dryly, still staring out on the mist-shrouded, craggy hills below.

Iroh grunted, as if that was of little importance. "She is a beloved heroine of the war, my Lord. Our people might even welcome her as one of their own, seeing as she is not of noble birth---though I beg to argue that fact."

"And how is that, Uncle?" Zuko asked, not particularly interested.

"Her grandmother was named Kanna and came from the North. She can claim kinship with the current King. Her brother, in fact, eventually married a headman's daughter in Kyoshi, and is now headman himself. She is not without some name," Iroh commented mildly.

"Distant, at best." The Lord dismissed the argument as trivial.

"So. You are really considering the Avatar's proposal?" Iroh cut right to the heart of the matter.

"Yes," the proud young man replied bluntly.

"The Avatar makes many fine points, nephew. The world still resents us. The war still sits bitterly in many men's memories. Taking this one in marriage and sealing a solid alliance with the other nations would do much to show the world that we have moved past our former aggression. It would do much to seal the peace made between us." The general folded his hands across his substantial girth, burying them in the wide sleeves of his kimono.

"I agree, Uncle," Zuko said shortly. The wind rose a bit, restlessly stirring the black ends of his high queue and rustling through the various papers on his desk.

"You have already decided then, haven't you?" Iroh asked, amused.

"Yes." Golden eyes stared broodingly out onto the harsh landscape but did not see it.

"You will marry her then?" Iroh asked, just because he could.

"I will. I see no other way. I will marry the girl."

The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only as Iroh commented rather mildly, "It has been ten years. I don't think she is a girl now, my Lord, but a woman."

The Lord said nothing.

The old general smiled to himself, his golden eyes twinkling as he once again picked up his favorite cup of ginseng tea.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own any of "Avatar: The Last Air Bender's" characters, etc. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

**TEMPESTUOUS**

_Summary: Ten years have passed since Sozin's war ended. Alliances must be forged between embittered nations, and Katara must marry to keep stable the peace. But can she ever find love in the arms of an old enemy? (Zutara)_

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews. I was bowled over by the feedback this little idea generated. Special thanks to Mirena for pointing out a gaping plot hole I was stumbling into. Hope the solution is believable. :o) Thanks again! (Fate)

**Chapter Two**

After my bath, I was shown to my room by a small, young girl who blushed and bowed and said nothing, being too shy. It was heart-warming to see the Southern Air Temple bustling with life once more---though I should not have been surprised as much as I was to see how many people had actually come at the Avatar's call. What had started out as a few people to help clean up the old, deserted towers had blossomed into a thriving community of people dedicated to the dream of restoring a way of life once thought lost forever.

Need had brought the first people---a stone mason to repair the broken walls or a gardener to restore the wild orchards. Their needs had brought others---a cook able to feed many, a healer or a clothier for mending. All who had them had brought their families, and their needs had called on others---a midwife, or a servant, or traders to supply things the growing community could not make for themselves.

Still others had come because Aang was who he was---the Avatar, and the last of the Airbenders. They sought to be a part of something new and wonderful---or, perhaps, part of something believed gone forever. The Air Nomads had died more than a century past and their ancient traditions had died with them---or so many had believed. But there were dedicated scholars and historians who had kept the monastic knowledge contained within fading texts and cracking scrolls alive through their study of such things, and they came to the Southern Air Temple to offer their help in resurrecting the old traditions.

Aang had only been a boy of twelve when his aerial brethren had disappeared from this world, and although he had been an Air Master himself, there were many things he had not known or paid little attention to. He had feared that a whole way of life had disappeared forever. I knew that he had been truly heart-touched that so much knowledge had been saved through the efforts of isolated men and women bent on preserving a culture thought dead and useless by the modern world that did not contain it, and thus he had done the unthinkable, and granted them brotherhood (or sisterhood, as the case might be) and status as monks, recognizing them as Lorekeepers of Air.

He had explained to me---in the letters we had written between us over the years---that they could never be given Mastery, of course, as none of them were Airbenders. He revealed that there had been, in times long past even before his own birth, monastic brothers and sisters who were not true Airbenders, ones who had attended such necessary duties as keeping the temples cleaned or tending the gardens or copying the fading scrolls in the cluttered libraries, for the Air Nomads had always revered knowledge and freedom as one and the same. Without one, how could one ever, truly choose the other?

Granting monastic recognition of the scholarly Lorekeepers had led, over time, to the granting of other orders, as men and women who had worked unstintingly to help revive and repair the old Southern Air Temple had been given recognition for their efforts as well. Serving the Avatar in his Temple was considered an honor, and Aang had actually had to stop the influx of people who rushed to meet the needs of the burgeoning community. The delicate ecology of the Air Nomads' mountainous homes could only support so many, and so he had turned to the monkish tradition of demanding allegiance of any who wished to come and serve the temples to stem the eager tide of opportunists who threatened to swamp the Avatar's home with too many to easily support. Over time, the flood had slowed to a trickle, as those who did not want to give up their own ties of blood to the nations and lands of their birth decided to seek elsewhere. Still, there were enough people in the thriving Southern Air Temple that there was now talk of opening up the Eastern temple, though Aang remained undecided on the subject, as rumor indicated. I did not know his inner thoughts on the subject, as our letters---written so eagerly in the beginning, had dwindled over the years to a few faithful greetings sent every few months.

I knew, though, that the greatest gift Aang had received had been from the old guru, Pathik, who had taken it upon himself to find the last few remaining Air Bison and flying lemurs and return them to the safety and security of the Southern Air Temple. Hidden and isolated in small herds and family groups, the dwindling numbers of shy bison and mischievous lemurs had been close to extinction. With the Temple's help, however, their numbers were steadily growing. The trees and open courtyards were now filled with the chattering cacophony of the playful lemurs, and the green fields were dotted once more with the fluffy-white clouds of small, six-legged calves as Appa bellowed proudly like a king over his growing herd.

The wide windows I passed gave me glimpses of the swooping lemurs as they scolded each other, playing at some game or another. I thought of MoMo, and wondered where he was. The airy corridors made me feel a bit exposed, high up as we were, and I felt a little melancholy, reminded by how much had changed in the past ten years. I was glad when we finally reached my room, considerately placed along one of the inner walls of the tower. It was decorated with simplistic taste but more than comfortable after several days of sleeping on the hard ground. The creamy-yellow stone walls were painted with graceful blue lines, mimicking waves, and there were comfortable furs spread out on the simple pallet where I would sleep. Aang's doing, I was sure, and I smiled in thanks as the girl who was my escort finally spoke, asking in a shy whisper if there was anything else I would need.

"No, thank you," I said, smiling kindly at her. She bobbed a faint bow and bolted. I took stock of my room and went to my travel bags to unpack the few things I had brought with me. I dug out the last clean robe I had, though it was badly wrinkled and patched in obvious places. I was glad to peel off my stinking clothes---it had been rather disgusting to have to climb back into them after I had just cleaned myself off, but I had not brought any other clothing with me when I was shown the central courtyard used for bathing by the Temple's residents.

"Those need laundering, young Master." A qravelly voice echoed my own thoughts. I jerked up in surprise, and the old woman who now stood inside my room made a shallow bow.

"Can you show me where the laundry is? I don't mind cleaning my own…" I trailed off as she raised a thin brow.

"I am Suni, young Katara of the Southern Water Tribe. You will call me Suni, as I will call you lady, as is proper. You will not do your own laundry---that is why we have servants here, and that is what they do. You will not do servants' work as I am sure you are more than used to, coming from an honorable, but small, tribe as you do, and you will not appear in public in something as patched as that thing you are now wearing."

I stared at her in bewilderment, not sure who was in charge of who. Finally, her sharp speech caught up with me and I flushed in embarrassment. The robe I was wearing was patched and worn, yes, but at least it was clean.

"You will not protest what is in your best interest, my lady. You will heed my words, for I was once the serving-lady to a great Queen and I know all about these things. You have a certain stature to maintain here in the Avatar's Temple and you will not conduct yourself as the rough barbarian that you might be more used to." The little old woman fixed me with a beady black eye, waiting for my reaction.

My eyes glittered in anger, but I remembered my teacher's words---that I was always too quick to anger. Master Pakku had chided me often enough that if I was truly to be a Master of Water, than I must be like the tides, endlessly patient and enduring.

I counted to ten. And then to twenty, as I closed my eyes and sought my own calm center of inner peace. Finding that still, quiet pool, I breathed deeply---twice---and then opened my eyes, a serene expression on my face, though it was still a bit forced.

"Good, then. You are listening and willing to accept my guidance. That is intelligent." The old tyrant was something else. I counted to ten again.

"You will need something done with your hair. It has a nice length and a good color, but the style is rather simple," the old woman sniffed. "I see that there is a lot of work for me to do, my lady."

"This is the style of my people, Suni. It suits me. I will not change it," I said tightly between clenched teeth. The woman appeared not to notice.

"We shall see, my lady," she replied serenely.

Nothing was sacred with this crazy old woman.

"I shall go and find you some better attire. Hopefully, we shall have something in the Temple's stores. As many people send gifts and tribute to the Avatar, we are lucky enough to be able to spare a little bit of everything. I will take your clothing down to be washed and return it unharmed, I promise. I can tell that you would be angry if I threw away any of your rags." She gathered my dirty clothes with quick efficiency as I bit back a shrewish reply.

_Patient and biding as the tides, I will be as patient and biding as the tides…_

"You will not leave this room until I have returned to dress you. There are many visiting dignitaries about. Many are the Avatar's distinguished guests. You are in my charge, my lady, and you will not embarrass me." With that parting shot, the old bat finally took herself out, leaving me to breathe deeply and remember that water is ever enduring, ever patient and ever calm.

It _is_, damn it!

oooOOooOOooo

I finally emerged from Suni's attentive care and hastened to go meet Aang for supper, for I was running late. The soft blue robe Suni had pulled me into was simple but elegant. We had had a battle royale over my hair---she had finally compromised and coiled my thick braid up and pinned it in place. I had put my foot down about my mother's necklace---I would not give it up, though she had tried her best to persuade me that a delicate corcora shell necklace would be far more appropriate. The soft, indoor slippers were bad enough, for I was used to sturdy, fur-lined boots, and was wary of sliding in the delicate shoes.

I was glad enough of Suni's interference, however, when I arrived at the simple dinner I had expected to share with just my friend and found a dozen or so people crowded around a table and a five course feast just then being served. I froze in the doorway, stunned, as I stared in silence at the scene before me. There were representatives from every nation, including the Northern Water Tribe, and Aang was impressively dressed in full saffron robes of state, the three-circled necklace of his Air Mastery in heavy gold links upon his breast.

"Ah, Katara. I am glad you have come." He gracefully made his way over to me as all the private conversations died abruptly upon my sudden appearance. He gave me a slight wink as he took my arm and turned to face the small crowd of strangers. "May I introduce my best friend, Katara, of the Southern Water Tribe."

"It is an honor." This came from a stiffly formal noble from the Fire Nation, and he didn't sound so convincing of that fact as he made a short, sharp bow in my direction.

"Indeed it is." A tall, handsome man came forward. Dressed in the graceful blue robes of an advisor from the Northern Water Tribe, he actually made me return his smile with warmth, for his was truly welcoming, as was the other, older man's who stood beside him.

"You might remember me, Katara," the older man said, and his long grey head did seem somewhat familiar. "I was one of your teachers, assisting Master Pakku."

"Naru, wasn't it?" I asked, smiling in recall.

"You were a good student, young Katara, a quick and eager one." Master Naru smiled and patted my free hand with a fatherly gesture.

"Master Naru wasn't so pleased with my own study," Aang grinned, for a moment again the merry young boy I had known.

"Ah, but that was long ago, Master Aang. I think that you can now teach us Waterbenders a thing or two, no?" Naru laughed, and we all made our way to the table.

I was seated between Aang and Master Naru, with the other Northern representative across from me. That was good, for I was able to talk with both of them, as Aang was busy speaking with everyone at his end of the table. There was more left unspoken than what was said in polite conversation, and I felt slightly stilted. There were other women at the table, though only one held any true rank, as the other guests might see it, for she was an Earthbender from the reclaimed capital of Ba Sing Se. The others, I was later startled to find, were some of the Avatar's concubines.

I knew that poor Aang was the last of the Airbenders, but I had never really, truly, thought about that fact. I knew that he had taken a number of wives in order to make sturdy alliances among the four nations, but I had never really considered how many alliances he might have actually made. It was something of a shock to think that the rather awkward young boy I had known now had more wives than there had been people left in my tribe the day I rode off after him.

The taking of many wives was common practice among the other three nations, but the Water Tribes had always been rather monogamous, for the most part. I felt ill at ease among them, though they all seemed nice enough.

It was the Fire Nation delegates who truly made me uneasy, for they kept staring at me, as if measuring me against some unknown. Finally growing tired of the covert---and not so covert---glances, I looked back at the oldest one, the stuffily honorable General Shaolin, and nodded slightly to acknowledge his penetrating interest. He actually relaxed a bit at my unwavering stare, and even unbent enough to smile at me and make some idle comment about the dish then being served. The other three Fire Nation men seemed to follow the General's silent lead, and the tensed atmosphere began to relax minutely, until final cups of fragrant tea were being served on low cushions in the adjoining hall and the various guests started taking their leave.

Master Naru stayed by me, as did Aang, as the General and his men came to bow and give their final farewells, for they were leaving the Temple at first light. The general lingered over my hand, and I made him laugh, though I couldn't recall after just what it was that I had said, for by then I was too tired to care. "You are pleasing, young Waterbender. There is fire in you, though your heart is all water."

With that odd comment, the general bowed, his men following suit, and they finally left the hall. Master Naru watched them go, and said smugly, "They are impressed with you, Katara. That is good."

"It is?" I asked, too tired to act like I knew what he was talking about.

"Master Naru," Aang suddenly interrupted us, "I think that I will retire now with my old friend. There is much that we need to speak of, and the hour grows late."

The Northern Waterbender smiled slightly, and bowed. "Your will, Avatar."

"Good night, then, everyone," Aang said politely to the few remaining people in the room. His hand under my elbow pulled me up to stand beside him. "Come, Katara, if you will."

There was a note of command in his gentle voice, a note I had never heard before, except when young Aang had been in the Avatar state. I found myself obeying without protest, and followed him outside into the mild spring night.

The fuzziness of my tired mind retreated slightly as we emerged into the cooling night breeze. I automatically drew strength from the rising moon, though it was but a wisp of itself in the clear night sky. The stars were bright, this high up, and the creamy stone paths shone milky in the gathered shadows.

"Walk with me, Katara?" Aang's voice sounded entreating, and I could not turn him down.

"Of course, Aang," I said, looping my arm through his as we had done so often before in times past. We walked the paths in quiet camaraderie until Aang slowed his steps to turn into a small courtyard where a splashing fountain chuckled merrily to itself. I stepped from his side to run my fingers through the lapping water, sitting on the edge of the round, stone-rung pool.

Aang sighed behind me. "You look so content and familiar sitting there, Katara. I have missed you."

I looked back at him, smiling. "I have missed you, too, Aang. This…" I waved airily around me at the curving Temple, and the quiet life that stirred even now around it, "---this is all so wonderful. I am so glad for you, and so proud of what you have built here, but everything has changed, and grown so complicated, hasn't it? I'm glad I came, though, if just for the chance to get to know the man you have become."

Aang stepped closer, his grey eyes dark. He touched my shoulder. "You have grown too, you know. You are much more tolerant than once you were."

I smiled, content with the quiet water within. It had taken me a long time to find that inner serenity. The struggle had been hard, but well worth the peace in my heart.

Aang's gaze lowered, and he sighed heavily, as if he knew there was something that would break that peace.

I turned and grabbed his hands in mine, anxious at the weary sound of his sigh. He carried the world's burdens---it must be hard to endure at times. "You sound so tired, Aang. Tell me. What is it? What troubles you so?"

"Ah, Katara, you are so sweet and kind. I hate to burden you with any of my problems," Aang said fiercely.

"I'm strong enough, I should think." I smiled up at him, and he just sighed again before seating himself beside me. He folded my hands in his, and looked at me, really looked, and my brow furrowed at the intensity of his dark gaze.

"The world needs you, Katara. There is a great sacrifice I must ask of you, and I don't know how to say it, for it is that important to keeping the peace we have worked so hard and long for."

"Aang, you're frightening me. What is it?" I asked, unnerved by the fervency in his quiet voice.

"I do not know how to say this, but than just to say it. Katara, I must ask if you would marry someone, someone important, in order to keep the peace we have established," he said, deadly serious.

_"What?" _I tried to jerk my hands out of his in shock, for it was the last thing I was expecting, but he kept hold of them, squeezing lightly to express sympathy or understanding, perhaps.

"Katara, I would not ask this of you if it weren't important. You know that. It's a lot to ask, that you give up all thoughts of selfishness and sacrifice your life for the peace of the world," Aang said sorrowfully.

"I…" I swallowed, still in shock. _"Wh-Who?"_

"The Fire Lord. Zuko." His voice was quiet, firm.

"Zuko?" I shivered, feeling cold. "You can't be serious, Aang! _Zuko?"_

He squeezed my cold hands again, as if impressing on me that it was very much true.

"He would never agree to it," I said flatly, angrily.

"He already has," Aang answered simply.

"He couldn't. I'm but a _'simple water peasant,' _remember?" I hissed, trying to pull my hands free of his strong grip.

"You are not. You're a Waterbender and Healing Master, remember?" He tossed back.

"Aang, you can't be serious!" I struggled, denying it, but Aang started speaking, hoping to persuade me that he was all too serious.

"Katara, do you think I would ask this of you if I didn't think it was necessary? We must unite the four nations with more than just words. Alliances have already been made between Earth and Fire, Water and Earth. Your own brother married Suki of the island of Kyoshi, uniting the Southern Water Tribe and one of the Earth Kingdom's oldest families. He is happy living there among the people of Earth."

"He loved her, Aang! He didn't marry Suki to unite the Water Tribes with the Earth Kingdom. They didn't care about anything like that!" I protested, the tears burning in my eyes. Sokka and Suki were so happy---didn't I deserve my own chance at that?

"Katara, Katara, don't you think I know what it is I'm asking of you? Don't you think that this was a hard decision for me to come to, in even asking you to consider this…this marriage? Don't you think I know what it is you are giving up, what sacrifices you would make to accept this alliance? Damn it, Katara, don't you think I know exactly what an arranged marriage is like, always knowing that I can never find true love because I, Aang, am the last Airbender? Do you not know what it is I have sacrificed to keep the peace of this world? I cannot call my life my own! I am and will always be, first and foremost, the _Avatar_." There was a wealth of pain and bitterness in his harsh words. I trembled beneath the onslaught of that pain, the water in my very nature wanting to reach out and soothe it.

"Aang…Aang…" I touched his cheek, the tears flowing freely now. How could I be so selfish as to think he had not already given up so much more than I could ever have? In the face of such sacrifice, could I myself do anything less? My heart was breaking, for both of us, because I already knew what my answer would be, although I didn't want to say it, for then it would be all too real, my life not my own.

"Katara…please understand. I only ask this of you because I must." He touched my cheek as well, and gently brushed the tears away. "Gods, I don't even know why I am! How can I not even be able to protect my dearest friends from my own fate? Ah, Katara, Katara, say you will forgive me for even asking this of you, and I will stop it! We can find some other person to sell into marriage to the Fire Nation."

"There is no other person, though, is there?" I asked slowly, reluctantly knowing deep down that it was true. The Water Tribes did not claim royalty as some of the other nations did. The only princess who had been born among us had already sacrificed herself to save the moon for our people. How could I do anything less than Princess Yue?

There were no other Waterbending masters important enough to satisfy the Fire Nation's innate snobbery. There was just me, and I had never sought any favors from my fame. It embarrassed me, actually, that my name was spoken across the breadth of the world as one of the War's heroes, when I had not done much in that final confrontation with Lord Ozai and Azula.

It was Aang who had done that. Aang, and Prince Zuko.

Lord Zuko, now.

And soon my husband to be.

I shivered, feeling icy fingers tightening around my heart. It was like stepping in the mouth of the dragon with that one, and hoping he was not hungry at that moment.

But could I give less than the man, the friend, sitting before me? How could I be so selfish and wrong as to do that?

Choking, I finally whispered softly, "Stop, Aang. I will do it. To keep the peace. We have worked too hard to break that."

The tears ran down his cheeks as well as he stood up and bowed deeply, fists pressed together. "Thank you, Katara---thank you."

And so I finally bowed my head---unhappily, true, but resolute---to the inevitable.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of "Avatar: The Last Air Bender's" characters, etc. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

**TEMPESTUOUS**

Summary: Ten years have passed since Sozin's war ended. Alliances must be forged between embittered nations, and Katara must marry to keep stable the peace. But can she ever find love in the arms of an old enemy? (Zutara)

_A/N: Thanks for the continued reviews. They give me the WAFF's and keep me typing way past my bedtime. ;o) (Sidenote: Katara may seem OOC but there's a reason, I promise!)_

**Chapter Three**

"Do you know what it is you have gotten yourself into, Lady?" The gravelly voice interrupted my uneasy reflections upon my folly, and I did not turn to look at the obnoxious old woman. Pressing my fingertips against my pounding temples, I tried to dismiss her with the headache that presently clamored inside my head.

Suni, much like my headache, would not go away. With a grunt, the woman laid her burden of cleaned clothing on the nearest chair, and said waspishly, "You do not, I can see."

"Suni, please lee---" She broke through my half-hearted protest.

"I will not leave. I will stay and I will tell you exactly what mess it is that you have gone and gotten yourself into, for I know. I once served a great Queen, my lady, and you will listen to my words and you will take my advice."

She hardly ever left room for argument with that kind of tiresome speech. I sighed, wishing the interfering old tyrant might just accidentally step through the nearest open window and fall to her death some three miles below.

I blinked at the surprisingly vicious thought and immediately felt ashamed of my angry bitterness, for it didn't stem from the bossy old woman, but from my own inner turmoil with the paths my formerly carefree life were now being bent down.

Gathering my frayed peace around me, I deliberately sat up, composing myself into something akin to inquiring interest, though I still felt stiff, and my temples pounded in protest.

Suni smiled, showing teeth Appa would envy. "Much better, my lady."

I scowled. The woman sorely tried my thin patience.

Suni fixed me with a critical eye. "That will never do, my lady. That look does not become you. You will not do it again."

My brows rose in some bewilderment.

"Better, but still not good enough. You must work on it. You _will_ work on it, for the last thing you need to do is look like a startled or peevish child." Suni daintily settled her short, round figure on the cushions in front of me, brushing her simple robe as if it were the costliest gown. "I know these things and you would do well to heed my words, for you are stepping right into the lion's den by marrying this Fire person."

_Zuko. _I shivered, and bit my lip.

"You will not do that one, either, my lady, for you look nervous, and you will be eaten alive by that rabid Court if you were to show the slightest sign of weakness," Suni absently chided, though she pursed her lips and thought for a long moment. "Hmmm. That might not be a bad thing…"

"What?" My brows rose again, though I quickly lowered them at the old woman's dark look.

"You can hardly fight fire with fire, for you are a Waterbender. Your nature is water. Water is patient and enduring, sweet and calming, soothing, fluid, beautiful." Suni actually smiled at her description, rather satisfied with her summation.

I blinked. It was something like what my Masters had tried to teach me---though a little off.

Suni's beady black eyes twinkled. "It is perfect."

"What is perfect?" I asked, confused.

"You will not knit your brow like that, for it will give you wrinkles. Confusion is not a good look. Bewildered is better. Raise your brows---delicately!---and widen your eyes. Do it now."

I stared at her, my mouth open.

"Gaping like a fish is not queen-like, my lady," Suni said primly.

"Queen-like?" I felt like a babbling idiot, repeating every word the old woman spat.

"You will be the Fire Lord's lady. You will be a queen in a Nation of ancient lineage and proud traditions. You are a simple Water Tribe maiden. They will eat you alive," Suni snapped.

"Who will eat me alive?" I was suddenly amused by the old woman's fervency, and smiled.

"Better," Suni's voice was tightly clipped. "But you will have to work on it, my lady."

"Suni, what is this all about?" My patience grew short, and showed in the sharpness of my voice.

"The Court, my lady," Suni sniffed, as if I should know better. "You have no idea, do you?"

"No idea of _what_, Suni?" I snapped, patience broken. Subtlety was not one of my strong suits. I hated the old woman's dithering and scolds, as if I even knew of what she spoke!

Suni stilled, her eyes hard as obsidian. "The Fire Nation is a land rich with ancient honor and thorny pride. They are a harsh people, full of the fire that fuels them, and fierce in their loyalty and disdain. You are ill prepared, my lady. for the hotbed of competition and conspiracy that awaits you there. The Fire Nation does not tolerate weakness and will not hesitate should you fail."

"Fail?" I blinked.

"Yes, fail. If you show that you are weak, my lady, and that you are but a simple country peasant stumbling about court without knowing what is what, than they will eat you alive. You will never have their respect and your life will be as nothing. If you prove weak enough, than the enemies you will inevitably have, being the new Fire Lady, will not hesitate to kill you."

"What?" I stumbled on that one.

"Assassination has a long and honorable tradition in the Fire Nation's history, my lady. The nobility are caustic and unforgiving. If they saw you as a weakness, a stain upon their honor, than they would not hesitate to burn you out, as they would any illness or withered limb."

I could only stare at her, uncomprehending such callous disdain. My own people were so loving and tolerant. But this was Fire, not Water, and perhaps Suni had the right of it, for I had no idea now what I had gotten myself into.

Uncertain for the first time in a long time, I finally unbent my pride long enough to say warily, "What is it I should do, then?"

Suni smiled. It was not a nice smile.

ooOOooOOooOOoo

"She has accepted, then?" Iroh settled his bulk more comfortably in the wide chair especially provided for him. His joints ached from time to time, and they reminded him more often than not nowadays that he was as mortal as any other.

"Was there any question?" The arrogance in that sharp reply would have staggered someone who did not know his nephew as well as the general did. He knew more than any other, though, how much Zuko had always, deep down, desired acceptance from others---though the proud Fire Lord would never admit to such a weakness.

"Not in my mind," Iroh reassured the Lord, though Zuko would never admit that, either.

"We will set sail tomorrow for the Southern Air Temple---at dawn." Zuko picked his way through a variety of lists and other paperwork that littered the top of his wide desk. Iroh often wondered why his nephew ever employed a secretary, since he so often took it upon himself to see to things. A bit of a control-freak, was his Lord nephew.

"Isn't that a bit hasty?" Iroh asked, just to dig a little at the Fire Lord. He was the only one who ever dared.

Zuko made no reply, merely signing another document detailing what was to be done during his brief absence. He had planned a strict schedule to go and retrieve his bride. He had entertained the notion of having the wedding ceremony preformed by proxy, but had quickly discarded it for purely political reasons. He did not want to give the Court any reason to doubt this alliance, and if he gave even the appearance of reluctance, than that would be food enough for the hungry scavengers eager to sniff out any weakness they might then exploit.

"General Shaolin was quite taken with young Katara," Iroh filled in the silence. There was a momentary pause in the scratching of Zuko's pen, then it resumed.

Iroh pursed his lips. "He said she was quite beautiful."

Scratch, scratch.

"And gracious. Very gracious."

Another pause. Then the scratching resumed.

"I wonder how she has filled out in the years since last I saw her," Iroh commented idly to himself, his golden eyes half-closed as he waited for a reaction.

Nothing.

"There was promise there. Good promise," he continued.

Paper rustled as the Lord drew another stack of missives to him. Dipping his pen, he resumed his writing.

Scratch, scratch.

"She had the most beautiful eyes. Blue as the sky on a clear day."

Rustle, scratch.

"Her breasts were like ripe, young peaches. Firm, yet supple."

Pause.

Zuko finally raised his head and turned a hard look on his uncle. The glow in the Fire Lord's golden eyes was molten.

"What?" Iroh feigned innocence.

"Enough, Uncle. Even _you_ have limits," Zuko said flatly, his voice like fire-forged steel.

Iroh affected a look of injured puzzlement.

Scowling, Zuko returned to his work. The pen scraped across the parchment, which rustled as the Fire Lord slid the next request that needed his personal authorization.

Burying his folded hands in the wide sleeves of his kimono, Iroh closed his eyes. His lips twitched as he added, "Peaches, you know, can be quite succulent."

The pen's tip suddenly snapped, leaving a large blot across the page.

ooOOooOOooOOoo

"One step, two…now, bow." Suni's voice was sharp as she bit the tempo out.

I paused as the door was pushed open, caught in an awkward position as I was half-way through the graceful motion.

"What is it?" Suni snapped, irritated by the interruption. But she paled upon seeing it was Aang, and bowed low in deep reverence.

"Aang!" I was happy to see him, for he was the one person who could shut Suni up. She regarded the Avatar with a mix of fear and awe that often left her speechless. All the better, to my mind---though I felt instantly guilty for the thought. Suni was only trying to help me not to trip all over my big, peasant feet, so to speak.

"Learning a new dance?" Aang asked with a smile, his gray eyes lighting up. The Avatar liked to dance.

"No," I said, disgruntled. "I'm learning how to bow---correctly. I didn't know there were so many ways."

Aang's grin was full of sympathy. He must have gone through a similar rough time of it. Being the Avatar didn't have all it's fun moments.

"Mustn't offend the Fire Nation," I bit that out with more bitterness than I should, for Aang's eyes grew instantly sad. I felt immediately contrite for my hasty words. "Oh, Aang, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I'm just tired, and cranky."

"It's okay, Katara. I'm sorry, too." And he meant it, for it was there, in his sorrowful gaze.

I forced a carefree smile. "It's all right. I just never knew how little I actually did!"

Aang chuckled. "It was hard for me, too. Suni's a good teacher, though. She knows the ins and outs of a court better than anyone else here."

Suni blinked at the compliment and blushed like a young girl. "Thank you, my lord."

"I think I need a break, though." I grasped at any straw. "Before I trip over more than just my tongue!"

"Want to go visit Appa?" Aang asked, the gray eyes lighting up with mischief.

"Boy, do I!" I bowed an insincere apology to Suni, and fled.

ooOOooOOooOOoo

There were few hours that we could spend as care-freely as we did that afternoon with the giant bison. Aang's duties as Avatar kept him busy and my time was not my own now, either. I was kept constantly running, learning how to be what a good Fire Lady should, though Suni would shake her head more often than not and I had to rein in my temper more than ever. To be honest, I was frightened of the very thought of my upcoming marriage, but I was a Waterbender and would not dishonor my tribe or Aang's trust in me. I buried my fears by trying to be everything Suni wanted me to be, though it often went against my nature.

But the old tyrant, as critical and sharp-tongued as she was, had plenty of good arguments to back her up. Her arguments were persuasive as well, and somehow fit with what Master Pakku and my various other Waterbending teachers had always told me---that I needed to learn more patience, to master myself as I would Water. Still, it was hard. But then, was any worthy goal ever easy?

Or so I tried to reassure myself as I bit back a sharp comment and only fluttered my fan. Though Suni promptly scolded me for fluttering it so hard. "You will not look like a bird flapping its wings, my lady. A fan is not a weapon. You will not flail it about like that. You will keep your movements slow and decorous, leisurely, dainty, beautiful."

Suki, my sister-in-law, could have argued that point, but then I remembered how graceful Suki's motions had always been, and bit back my angry retort. Slowing my movements, I deliberately pictured the peaceful tides on the beach of Kyoshi Island and felt the tension running out of my arms as the peace of Water surrounded my doubting self and soothed my irritation away.

"That's it, my lady!" Suni actually clapped her hands together, her black eyes beaming, and I smiled tentatively at the woman's approval.

Perhaps she knew best after all.

ooOOooOOooOOoo

The Fire Nation ships, all twenty of them---to do me honor, I suppose---made good time. I was actually a little depressed by that fact. I had hoped to delay the inevitable as long as I could, though I had known from that night in the garden that my life could no longer be called my own, and nothing would deter that fact.

Still, damn.

I was not there to actually greet Zuko, or any of the dozen or so generals he had brought with him. Suni had been adamant that it was the Fire Nation's custom that the bride must not be seen before the actual wedding ceremony and I was happy to leave all that mess up to Aang. He was the one who had persuaded me to this farce, and a tiny part of me was still angry with him for forcing my agreement. A fact which immediately shamed me---for who was I to feel such bitterness when he, as the Avatar, would bear ever so much more than I ever could?

Still, _damn_.

I could not miss the unmistakable tension that now overhung the Temple. Although I had seen no one of the Fire Nation, sequestered as I was, I could feel them. They were like a dark, ominous presence hanging over my heart, and I deliberately ignored the fearful thoughts that plagued my troubled mind. I had not given much thought to the Lord who would become my husband on the morrow, deliberately diverting my uneasy fears with the trivia of Suni's constant scolding, or the outfitting of a wardrobe far superior to anything I had ever owned. Aang's gift, I suppose, though it was Suni's insistence that had the Temple storerooms ransacked for anything that could be fit for the dignity of a future Fire Lady. I had been pinned and prodded and fitted to within an inch of my life and although I had hated the whole tiresome process, I could not but feel a certain girlish delight over the beautiful gowns and robes thus made for me.

On this last night of freedom, though, I eschewed the fancily embroidered gowns and other finery to don my own clothing. Having the familiar loose garments of home around me soothed my troubled spirit more than I would have thought and I even felt a bit more cheerful as I strode toward the central fountain in the small courtyard closest to my rooms. I was able to relax enough, with the burbling water surrounding me, to meditate, and I let my worries go one by one as I felt the rising moon's light bathe me in a comforting embrace. I felt as if Yue herself stood beside me, touching my shoulder lightly, and it was with surprise that I opened my eyes and found that it was actually Aang, his face lost in the shadows.

"Aang? What is it?" I asked quietly, worried by his silence and the dark shadows in his eyes. He touched my cheek, and smiled gently.

"You looked so peaceful there. I hated to disturb you," he said.

"Are you all right?" I asked him, tentative. There was something in his voice, a sadness that made me ache for him, though I could not name why.

"I will be." He smiled, then, and a bit of his old self, the boy I had known, danced in his eyes. "I wondered if you might not want to take one last fly on Appa with me tonight? For old times' sake?"

I laughed, and jumping up, raced past him, all dignity abandoned. With a yell, he sprinted after, and grabbed my hand as we darted down the steps in search of the giant bison.

ooOOooOOooOOoo

An unmistakable roar shook the night and while his guards gripped their knife-hilts---for that was the only weapon allowed within the Temple precincts---and exchanged nervous glances, the Fire Lord merely looked up, his eyes narrowed, as a white blur launched itself from another tower. As he had many times in the distant past, he watched as the giant, six-legged bison circled up and away from him, his face an expressionless mask.

"Ah, Zuko, there you are." Iroh slipped outside on the balcony, his eyes thoughtfully following the shadowy behemoth until it disappeared among the clouds that always wreathed the Southern Air Temple, it was built so high.

"It's a beautiful night," Iroh said circumspectly. "The moon is full."

Both men's eyes lingered on the moon's silver face. Even half-covered in wispy clouds, it's light bathed the stones of the balcony in creamy brilliance, etching harsh shadows across the hard lines of the Fire Lord's face. The scar that covered one eye and cheek stained a dark blot against his pale skin and the darker blackness of his hair.

"You rise with the moon…" Grimacing, Zuko looked down at his hands, which had clenched over the balcony's railing until the knuckles were white.

"What was that?" Iroh raised an inquiring brow at the Lord's husky whisper.

"Nothing, Uncle." The Fire Lord abruptly turned away, striding back inside with a closed, hard look the general knew of old. Sighing, the old man did not follow, but turned his weary eyes back up to the moon, which glowed luminescent, as if it understood.

Perhaps it did.

ooOOooOOooOOoo

Stripping the formal robe off of him, Zuko carelessly dropped it on the floor in his wake as he stalked through the second set of doors in his suite of rooms at the top of the western-most tower. Aang had given it to his party as a courtesy, and the creamy yellow walls bore stylized flames in an orangey-red abstract design. Zuko ignored the simple, yet elegant, surroundings as he lifted first one leg and then the other to pull off his boots. Dropping them where they fell, he hauled off the loose kimono and draped it over a chair back. Shirtless, he closed his eyes and breathed slowly. Finding his center, he walked with a panther's grace toward the small row of candles that faced his mediation mat.

Eyes still closed, he sank down into a lotus position, hands clasped together palm up with only the tips of his thumbs touching. A slow breath of fire lit all four candles with little effort. Concentrating, he lost himself in the exercise, allowing his distracted mind to settle as he examined the troublesome thoughts that plagued him, searching for any inner meaning that might help to dismiss them.

Her face formed in the stillness of his mind, a face he remembered from so long ago. It wasn't hard to trace the fine lines of her high cheeks or stubborn chin. Her eyes, blue, so blue…her lashes, long and thick, like sooty feathers…the fine, thin arches of her brows…the soft curve of her lips. She was so young, so innocent then.

Too innocent. Too trusting. Too hopeful.

He almost despised her for it, even as he envied her innocent belief in humanity's basic goodness. Denial, was what it was. It wasn't as if she hadn't seen the darker side of men.

Or of _him_.

His gut twisted, and his lips thinned as his dark thoughts turned her eyes, those blue, blue eyes, into regret and sadness.

Betrayed…

The touch of the green light of the crystals in the buried old city beneath Ba Sing Se, where they had been imprisoned together, lit her dusky skin with a hallowed light, shining in the tears that did not fall from her eyes but lingered there, taunting him with his betrayal.

All for love and acceptance. All for honor and a father's affection, never given.

Had the cost been worth it?

Not in the end, it hadn't, for he had betrayed them, too, his father and his sister, and helped the Avatar. He knew it was right, it _had_ been right, but it didn't make betrayal any less bitter a draught for the end it had brought about.

"RAWH!" With an angry flare, the candles toppled as fire burst into wild life around him.

_Damn it!_

Had the cost been worth it?

No. It hadn't. But it was what it was. He had needed love and acceptance then, needed it so much that he had even _crawled_ for it. That was a weakness of need he had burned out of him long ago. He didn't need that now. He didn't need it from anyone…


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own any of "Avatar: The Last Air Bender's" characters, etc. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

**TEMPESTUOUS**

_Summary: Ten years have passed since Sozin's war ended. Alliances must be forged between embittered nations, and Katara must marry to keep stable the peace. But can she ever find love in the arms of an old enemy? (Zutara)_

A/N: This has been one of the hardest chapters I've ever had to write. I debated over re-writing the whole thing, especially in light of DOBS. I wanted to wait and see how Katara and Zuko interact in the next episode, which I am _dying_ to see, but finally just decided to post as is. This story is already pretty much an AU. LOL. Anyhoot, here it is and let me know what you think. Are they both still in character? (I am wondering if I'm taking too much liberty with them. Any advice on anything would be muchly appreciated!) Thanks, Fate

**Chapter Four**

The momentous day had finally arrived, and it did so with a sweet serenity that was almost surprising when compared to the unsettled turmoil in my heart as I opened my tired eyes and realized that it was finally, inevitably, here.

Sitting up on the pallet, I drew my legs up and hugged them, my chin coming to rest on my fur-covered knees as I contemplated the future with a wary resignation that seemed almost terrible in and of itself. I had always sought the silver lining in life, and although such an optimistic, hopeful view could sometimes lead to deep pain, I'd rather bear the pain than be caught by the darker doubts of others, more practical---or suspicious---than I.

It was early. The sun had just breached the horizon, unseen but felt and heard in the slow, awakening stir of life around me. The lemurs, usually so chatty and loud, were only chittering now and then in the sleepy dawn. As the sun rose, so would they, until their loud cacophony permeated the Temple with its joyful din. I knew that the women would soon be coming to dress me, for the traditions of the Fire Nation demanded that the wedding ceremony take place at high noon, at the peak of the sun's ascension across the sky. I had little time, but I was grateful for it, for I needed to sort out a few things in my own mind before I could face the Lord who would become my husband in but a few more hours.

Resting my forehead wearily against my bent knees, I closed my eyes and thought about him---Zuko---for truly the first time since that fateful night when I had agreed to this alliance. I had deliberately avoided thinking of him. It was easier to distract myself with the thousand and one things that I needed to learn or do or become. It had been easy to ignore my own growing disquiet and unease about my upcoming marriage and concentrate on the silly irritations Suni constantly presented me with.

It was a cowardly retreat from facing reality, I admit, and I was still reluctant to confront it. But I was out of time, literally, and faced it must be before I could confront the source of it.

_Zuko_.

I shivered. Of all the people in this world that I had ever expected to see again, he was last and least. There was just so much that divided us---different worlds, different lives, different futures. To have our life paths braided together again after ten long years was something I had never even thought possible. Now that it was hard truth, I found myself floundering in seas too deep for me to delve easily.

Seeking some safe harbor against my tumultuous thoughts, I concentrated first on what I knew of him. Not much, to be frankly honest. I knew more of _what_ he was than _who_ he was. He was the Fire Lord, of course, and a powerful firebender. One could not be one without the other. I knew he was a few years my senior, that he was perhaps twenty-six or -seven now. I knew that he had had a hard time of it, those first few years after the final battle, in trying to hold on to his throne and keep civil war from breaking out across the island nation he had inherited at his father's death. I didn't know any of the details, hardly caring at the time, busy as I was with my own life and my own concerns. After Ozai's defeat, I had returned to my tribe, eager to help rebuild what had been lost.

Having seen the Northern Water Tribe and the beautiful city of ice and snow they lived in, having met Hama---horrific as that was, and something I still willfully shied away from dealing with---I knew what my tribe had once possessed. Master Pakku and others from the Northern Tribe had journeyed south to offer their help and assistance in rebuilding my home and I was eager to turn my own hand to the task. I know now that I was hurt that my brother, Sokka, did not go with me. At the time, I felt a bit betrayed that he was more eager to return to Kyoshi and begin his life with Suki there than in returning to our home on the icy tundra of the South Pole. It was selfish of me, yes, and my anger and hurt had led to a sullen and dismissive farewell on my part that had hurt him deeply at the time. We had remained distant for a number of years, a fact which pained me now in recollection. I was so often filled with such pride that I could not see past my own selfish pain to see that Sokka had needed to pursue his own happiness as I was trying to do with mine.

The war had left many wounds, some not as obvious as others, but ones that cut just as deep as a sword's sharp thrust. One of mine was the loss of my father. He had died in the final siege, and I had felt left behind once again as Sokka had taken his leave of me to build his own life with Suki. The hurt---and anger---had lingered for years. It was only at Gran-Gran's death, two years ago, that we had finally been free of the shadow of it. I was happy for him and his family. He had a son, a sturdy three-year-old with his father's features and his mother's dark grey-blue eyes, or so his proud letters to me said.

It hurt, though, that I had never seen my nephew. And from Sokka's last missive, there might be another in a few more months, if their hopes were realized. That hurt, too, that I might never see any of their children now, born and yet to be.

Funny how it was that my family was intruding upon my thoughts, twisting around those worries for the unknown and unknowable future. I could not know what type of marriage I would have with one such as Zuko. He was as much a mystery to me as I must be to him, and I wondered if he was as taken with apprehension as I was. Possibly not---he had never seemed to me to concern himself overly much with anything outside himself. To be honest, the moody prince I had known back then had been a bit of a brat, a rather whiny, spoiled brat.

I could not picture him a brat now. Somehow it did not fit with the image I had of the Fire Lord---though that image came more from the title than any actual knowing on my part. I didn't know what or who Zuko was and that was where all my apprehension came from. I could not know what type of path my life was now being bent down and I was uncertain how to proceed.

I could take comfort in the thought that he had, at least, agreed to this marriage. Though that was a cold comfort indeed. Zuko had always seemed to me to be someone who would always take the expedient path, no matter what the cost to him or others. He confused me---or the memory of him did. At times he had seemed almost honorable, almost human---at others, the most despicable and lowest of bastards. I could never forget how deeply he had affected me in the buried city of Ba Sing Se. Even now, I flinched away from the memory. What a trusting little fool I had been! I had learned my lesson and not trusted him again, even when he had finally came over to our side near the end. It was Aang and Toph, surprisingly, who had trusted him, while I and Sokka remained suspicious of his motives.

He had proven his loyalty to Aang, though. Even after he had consolidated his throne and his rule, he had remained true to the Avatar's peace, though the treaties often went against his nation's best interests. The proud Fire Nation had had many a bitter pill to swallow as the demands for reparation and tight control on how much power was granted them were battled out in the suspicion-ridden peace councils between the four lands. I knew little of the actual sanctions and monies paid by the Fire Nation; politics had never concerned me overly much. I was too busy helping to rebuild my own home to care how the World itself fared.

Stupid of me, perhaps, but it was the truth.

I sighed and tried to shrug the tension from my curled shoulders. I felt entirely stupid and far too ignorant. I just didn't know what I could expect from the man who would become my husband in less than six hours. I knew that I did not trust him, but perhaps I was being too harsh and critical. It had been ten long years since then, and perhaps I should give him the benefit of the doubt. He might have changed in ways I could not even comprehend and I, at least, owed him an open mind. My life would now be invariably twined with his, and while I could not expect love as such as my brother and his wife had, I could at least see mutual respect. We were both adults, we had both agreed to this marriage, this alliance, and we were both old enough to go into it with our eyes open. Perhaps, in time, we could even build something along the lines of an understanding, maybe even something akin to friendship. I could not see that _now_, of course, but I was ever an optimist.

I smiled faintly, and felt calmed enough by the comforting thought to finally slip back under the covers and into a sweet sleep, untroubled by the doubts that had plagued my restless night. There was little time for me to try and catch up on my missed slumber, but I would need every bit of it if I were to be ready to face the day with any kind of vigor...

ooOOooOOooOOoo

The Fire Lord had always kept himself to a strict schedule. Time was ever important in his increasingly busy days, and today was not an exception. He refused to give up his morning routine, even though it would cut into his personal preparations for the ceremony that would take place at midday. Dismissing an invitation to breakfast with the Avatar, he sent a suitable representative in his place with a polite apology, and used the time to hear the latest trade proposals offered by the supercilious Earth Kingdom delegate. His mind would not cooperate, however, and he found his attention wandering as the Earth King's aging representative droned on and on as the tea in front of him grew tepid and the un-tasted breakfast grew rancid on the platter between them.

Having finally had enough, Zuko abruptly stood up. The representative, caught off-guard, stopped in mid-sentence and gaped as the Fire Lord waved a dismissive apology and strode out of the room before the man could even form an offended protest. Leaving his advisors to soothe offended Earth Kingdom nerves, Zuko stalked from the small side chamber to his own. Waving off the attentions of the single servant he had seen fit to bring with him, he stripped off the formal morning robes he had donned to meet with the trade delegate and donned clothing more suitable for working out his silent frustrations.

Feeling too edgy for simple meditation, the Fire Lord used the hour set aside for such things to double the time he allotted for his daily exercise. Making his way to the simple courtyard allotted for his use, he summoned a few of his men to work out with him. Focusing his excess energy and unspoken irritation on the traditional kata did not help---fighting without fire helped somewhat more. Ruthlessly controlling the hard moves that would normally allow fire to sear from spread fingers, fist or foot allowed him to bank the irritation while expending the restless energy in controlling his own chi. He worked himself to near exhaustion in a frenzy of ferocity his sparring partners had not seen in some time. Impressed anew by their Lord's precision and the strength of his control, they bowed with deep reverence as he finally motioned for them to rest.

It was his uncle's discreet presence that had recalled the Fire Lord to the fact that time had slipped past him without his ever realizing it. Irritated by the fact, Zuko waved the old Dragon forward as he dismissed the weary men. Taking a towel from the servant who stood patiently near, he mopped the sweat from off his brow and neck as Iroh surveyed him with a measuring eye.

"There is little time left for you to bathe and dress, my Lord. I suggest you put it to good use."

Zuko paused. His voice was muffled behind the towel as he demanded coldly, "Are you trying to bait me, Uncle?"

"I?" Iroh feigned innocence, even as his amber eyes twinkled. "Never."

"Hmph." Zuko handed the crushed towel back to the servant, who bowed.

"I have secured use of the ivy fountain in the lower court for your private bath, nephew, but we must hurry. There are many others anxious to use it for themselves." Iroh waved at the servant to proceed them. The servant bowed with graceful thanks and then turned and bolted. He needed to hoof it if he would have all the things the Fire Lord might need for his bath assembled and ready by the time they got there.

Almost unconsciously considerate, Iroh slowed his pace to a mild amble, giving the poor servant time to do his duty. Zuko automatically matched his uncle's stride, his thoughts turned inward as his golden gaze grew cold and remote. It was a habit of the Fire Lord's whenever he brooded, and the distant look had made more than one man in his company nervous for no true reason. Amused, Iroh stayed silent as they made their way toward the lower courtyard, where the Temple's rather simple plumbing made use of a natural spring as a bathing pool.

The spring was fresh and freezing as only mountain streams could be. Clever---if simple by Fire Nation standards---engineering hidden by graceful stonework allowed a small spray of continual water to fall from the lip of a wide, bowl-shaped fountain into the roughly oval-shaped pool surrounding it. The Air Nomads had always sought to work with nature, rather than against it, and their odd tendencies showed even in their primitive bathing facilities. The courtyard, open to the elements, was still hidden from casual view by tall stands of intertwining ivy. The verdant growth covered every surface, even the upper fountain, where their long strands floated lazily in the mild current of the spring's sway.

The servant, red-faced and panting, stood up at attention as the two men approached. Iroh spared the man a brief smile of thanks as he saw the towels and the Fire Lord's preferred toiletries neatly arranged at the pool's edge. Zuko ignored the man as he stripped the sweaty clothes from off him, only noticing how out of breath the servant was as he wheezed a bow and accepted the Lord's discarded garments.

"I should have brought more than one servant, Uncle," Zuko said with a frown, troubled that he was just now noticing how ragged his man looked.

Iroh only raised a thick brow, waiting. He had already bathed, so did not follow as his nephew knelt at the edge of the sunken pool. Sticking a hand in to test the temperature, Zuko shivered in distaste. Summoning his chi, his hand glowed in the pool's troubled waters until steam wafted up from the agitated waves.

Using one hand to brace against the stone, Zuko plunged lazily into the heated water, which splashed around his flat stomach and hips at the abrupt intrusion. Rolling his tense shoulders to loosen the muscles, he paused and addressed the waiting servant. "You may leave. Take the rest of the day for yourself. I won't need you until tomorrow."

"Uh---" The servant paused, uncertain.

Zuko scowled, impatient and almost regretting his spontaneous generosity. "What?"

"My Lord, should I…uh…do you want me to see to your chambers first? They must be made ready for tonight…" The stuttering man turned a shade of red that had Iroh laughing outright, he looked so much like a blushing virgin caught at a bawdy house.

Zuko looked mildly stunned. Iroh laughed harder.

Growing irritated, the Fire Lord waved the man off. "Yes, yes, do whatever you feel you should, then retire."

"Th-Thank you, my Lord," the man abased himself and then fled.

"You can stop laughing now, Uncle," Zuko growled as he picked up a bag of sweetsand.

Iroh wiped tears from his eyes with the draping red sleeve of his formal kimono and grinned. "I apologize, nephew. I could not help it. Your expression was priceless."

Zuko only scowled, pulling a handful of the sweet-smelling sand out to scrub impatiently at his skin with swift, precise strokes. The Lord never wasted time or action, even at his bath.

ooOOooOOooOOoo

Finding a convenient seat on a nearby wall, which encircled a low stand of fruit-bearing bushes, Iroh watched as his nephew made quick work of his ablutions, diving under the water to wash the sandy soap off. Coming back up, Zuko flung his wet hair back off of his forehead, reaching for the stone jar of creamy hair-cleanser. Fumbling off the simple lid, the Lord swiped a generous dollop of the scented goop and proceeded to scrub it into his scalp with short, impatient motions that could not hide his annoyance.

Iroh regarded his lord and nephew with half-closed eyes, lips twitching in amusement. His nephew was a fine specimen of a man. He'd grown into his height, having shot up at the age of seventeen to a few inches over six feet, and the firm play of muscles along his back and shoulders spoke of a controlled strength that made the general almost misty-eyed with pride. This man, this Lord who he was proud to serve, was like a second son to him, and this was his wedding day. Iroh had never thought he would live to see it. He was proud, damn proud, and truly grateful that the spirits had granted him the privilege to witness it. His idle thoughts turned to the pleasurable speculation of his future grandchildren---or rather, his grand-nephew or grand-niece. If all went well, he might even be able to hold one in only nine months. Wouldn't that be something?

Zuko, unmindful of his uncle's thoughts, dipped back under the water to rinse the soap from his hair. The water was growing cool again and he didn't bother reheating it, as he was pretty much done with his bath. Hopping out of the pool, he finger-combed the dark locks back with one hand as he reached for a towel with the other.

Zuko eyed his uncle as he toweled himself dry. Iroh was staring dreamily off into the distance, a bemused smile on his expressive features. Knotting the damp towel around his hips, Zuko raised a brow. Irritated for no discernable reason, the Fire Lord demanded abruptly, "Uncle? What the hell are you smiling about?"

"Grandchildren," Iroh said, his voice wistful. "Think I could have one in nine months or so?"

"What?"

"Fine. I'll give you a year, then. That should be more than enough time."

"What?"

"What do you mean, what? That should be more than enough time, I should think."

"Uncle…" The Fire Lord's eyes grew dangerous. He looked like his father when he did that. Scary thought. Even as kids, Ozai had been rather ruthless and that dangerous expression had always heralded a temper tantrum of epic proportions. Come to think of it, Azula had often sported that same expression as a child. The younger children of the royal line had always seemed to inherit a little bit of Sozin's madness.

"Maybe you should limit yourself to one," Iroh said regretfully. He would have preferred to have many children to spoil, not just one.

"What?"

"Wouldn't want a little Ozai or Azula running around," Iroh explained with an alarmed expression at the hideous thought.

The Fire Lord found himself speechless. Only his crazy uncle could ever render him thus.

"Isn't Katara a second child, though? Come to think of it, she is. That might help. Good blood. That's what's been missing in the family. Good blood. Too much inbreeding, you know, can cause all kinds of peculiar birth defects. That's why I made sure my own wife was no closer than a fourth cousin. There's been too much of that in the nobility as of late. Inbreeding." Iroh smiled at his nephew, content with his own précis. "It should be all right, then. You can have more than one. I would hope for a good dozen or so. That would be nice."

"A dozen?" Zuko looked appalled.

"The Avatar has a good dozen or more. The oldest is only five, but is already showing signs of being a great airbender. You need to hurry and catch up. There's no time to waste."

"No time to…"

"I wonder how good her hips are," Iroh pursed his lips. "Too narrow and childbearing could prove difficult. I'll have to make sure she has good hips."

"Uncle…" There was sharp warning in the hard voice as the Fire Lord's eyes narrowed.

A sudden thought occurred to the general. "Zuko, you _do_ know what to do with a woman, right? I know you have quite a bit of a reputation, but that's not just rumor, right? I've heard the Painted Ladies call you Lord Rhino Pants, but I haven't really paid that much attention."

The Fire Lord couldn't believe his ears.

"No, no, I don't think it was Rhino Pants. It might have been the Royal Rhino. Yes, that sounds right."

Zuko remained stunned.

Iroh grinned. "You know, I was once known for that. The Mighty Cannon, they called me. My wife, may the gods rest her soul, used to giggle over it. Ah, such a sweet woman. How I miss her."

The Fire Lord looked faintly desperate.

"Now, your cousin, my Lu Ten---he always had a good reputation with the ladies. Made me proud, it did. Seems it runs in the family."

Turning on his bare heel, Zuko left. Quickly.

"Zuko?" Iroh's brows furrowed as he watched his nephew rapidly disappear behind the curving ivy that hid the pool and fountain from view.A sudden thought warmed the puzzled general. Perhaps Zuko was just eager now to start the family that both he and the Nation desired. Yes, that must be it.

How…sweet. Though "sweet" was not precisely a word that Iroh would first consider when thinking of his prickly-proud nephew. Still, one quite never knew what marriage would do to a man. How sweet a thought that was, and one the general determined to savor. Sitting back, a contented smile on his dreamy features, Iroh contemplated the future with a hopeful sense of happy expectation.

ooOOooOOooOOoo

I was awakened not an hour past my dawn musings by a caustic Suni. I had barely opened my eyes before a veritable flood of giggling women had swarmed over me, pulling me from my pile of furs and fussing over the dark shadows under my tired eyes. Aang---and worry---had lent me little sleep the night before, and I was still half asleep as I was pulled upright and drawn to a steaming bath hauled into the room even as multiple hands started yanking me out of my sleeping robes.

_That_ woke me up, and I protested, loudly, as my clothes were whipped off and I was virtually knocked into the tub of scented water by women who ignored me, chattering away as they were with excited laughter. Suni's sharp orders punctuated the gossipy encouragement of the women, who ignored my shrieks as cold water was summarily poured over my head. Sputtering under the onslaught, I tried to push the wet hair out of my eyes as helpful hands sponged and tugged and hauled on bits and pieces of me until I could not figure which end was up. Furiously embarrassed, I bent a wide splash of water to drench the lot of them, but they only laughed and made crude jokes that they hoped my poor husband-to-be wouldn't be treated to the same on our wedding night.

_That_ thought stopped me cold, and I suffered the rest of their attentions in silence as my mind ran in frightened circles over the startling revelation. Stupid of me, yes, but I just hadn't thought about it. At all.

And now I was thinking of it _too_ much. Far too much.

Blushing, I was hauled back out and a cup of lukewarm tea was thrust into my hand. Gulping it down, the cup was whisked away and a piece of bread put in its place. My stomach rebelled at the thought, so I discarded the proffered food as I was pushed into a dry robe and my hair yanked up into a towel. Irritated, I made a quick, sharp motion with my hand, and bent the dripping water off of me. Suni's sharp complaints over the water drenching much of the floor made me sweep it back into the tub, much to the young girls' delight, for women of all ages had come to see me prepared for the ceremony that would be held later that day, at high noon.

"Handy, that." An old woman pulled the towel off of my now-dry hair. She raked her fingers through the long, heavy length and I winced as she caught on a tangle. Suni was suddenly there, pushing a scented comb into the old woman's hand and snapping orders at the others to gather up the bath and other abandoned items and take them out. As the fluttering crowd left, another came to take its place, bearing the soft blue and white robes I would wear for the wedding ceremony as if they were prized treasures.

There were ooh's and aah's and I don't know what else as the carefully wrapped robes were bared for viewing. I was busy trying to keep my head attached to my neck as the old witch combing my hair did so with a callous disregard of how hard she yanked at the tangles snarling her comb. Yelping at a particularly nasty pull, I was glad when Suni came over to bark at the woman, who barked back. That drew the other women's attention back over to us, and I huddled under their annoyingly helpful chatter. Gentler hands took over the combing of my hair and I almost sighed with grateful relief as another pair of hands massaged the tension in my neck and shoulders.

I remember little after that. It was all a blur, as was much of the ceremony that came after. I remember nibbling on wine-soaked fruit at one point, though I still could not stomach much of it. I remember the hard argument that followed, as some women applauded my decision to not eat---better to keep a husband if you kept your figure, they said---and as others protested---loudly---that bad advice. Feeling annoyed, I ate more of the fruit than was perhaps wise, for it had been soaked in potent wine for some time, but at least the hazy stupidity of being slightly drunk kept my pounding headache at bay.

The robing---for I could not call it anything else, being wrapped into the smothering confines of multiple layers of fine silk and being laced and stitched and tightened to within an inch of my life as my rib cage was forced into a shape not meant for deep breath---left me dazed and creaking as I tried to take shallow, ladylike breaths. My hair was pulled into a heavy coiffure around a golden brace that felt like a ton of bricks, enough good-luck charms intertwined within the braided coils to make me feel like a fair-merchant's stall on display. The whole contraption was much admired and then completely hidden by the huge, billowing folds of the golden coif that would fasten the multiple veils to my head. Veils that would also hide the carefully applied pancake on my face.

I had gotten only a single, quick look in a polished mirror before the first veil---a misty white one---was attached to either side of my temples with gold clips. My eyes had been darkened with kohl, my lips painted red. I looked like a masked raccoon-owl, too pale and my eyes too big in my face. Laughter greeted my startled exclamation and then the other veils were added in a flurry of colorful silk. Pale blue and light green, pale red and paler yellow. I felt trapped by all the fabric and wondered sourly how I was supposed to breathe through all that silk.

But time had flown quickly and it was now time for me to descend. I could not see past the multiple layers of my veils. I complained, and Suni shushed me with a laugh. "You'll be able to see soon enough, my lady! Soon enough! Remember your bows, you will not disgrace me, now."

With that final sally, the old buzzard led the procession of fluttering, giggling, irritatingly helpful women out the door. I was trapped in the center, helplessly drawn along to a fate I was sorely dreading right about now.

ooOOooOOooOOoo

Iroh waved dismissively at the guard who would have announced him. Slipping quietly through the doors to his nephew's rooms, he paused as Zuko stiffened, his head turning sharply to the left at the sudden intrusion.

"Uncle," he said, the battle-ready tension dropping from his shoulders as he recognized the old general. Turning back to the wavy mirror he faced, he studied his reflection critically for anything he might have missed.

Eyes bright, Iroh turned away for a moment to wipe surreptitiously at them with an ornate sleeve. Zuko would not welcome such emotions right now, but _damn_ was he proud of his nephew in that moment, standing so tall and regal in his ceremonial armor. The fluted black armor, lined in red and gold, was tailored along the same lines as the armor he had worn as a young prince, rather than the more traditional robes of his royal office. Zuko had always disdained those robes and had refused to wear them even for this, his wedding day.

Zuko's golden eyes narrowed on the mirror's reflective surface. He had not missed his uncle's veiled action, and frowned slightly with faint unease. Relieved when the old general turned away rather than make a scene, his throat still tightened at the thought of his uncle's quiet understanding of how he would not have welcomed it.

He was truly blessed to have the old Dragon at his side. He knew that, but could never seem to make the awkward words slip past his lips to tell his uncle so. Words had always escaped him. Adroit phrases and polished, pretty speeches had never been numbered among his few true strengths. He had never had the patience to learn such skills and was too entrenched in his blunt ways now to start learning. Iroh would understand, though---he always had, and he always would.

Gathering his gifts and traditional tokens---ones that harkened back to a far simpler time, when the first refugees had huddled together on the shores of the smaller islands that had harbored them, and exchanged gifts of food, fire and shelter in a simple ceremony between man and betrothed---Zuko slipped them inside the red silk bag that hung alongside his uncle's knife at his hip. There were candied fruits and gold coins to represent his ability to provide, dried herbs and sacred incense to show his willingness to protect, and a variety of other small things to fulfill the other oaths demanded of any husband. Fire, the most important provision, he would summon himself from his own hand, showing his ability to sustain life---for without fire, there _was_ no life.

There hadn't been, back then. It was the fire that kept the dark and cold and wild beasts at bay. It was fire that had helped those first refugees to tame the dragons that would eventually show them how to make fire for themselves. It was the harsh lands of their birth that would shape them into what they were---a strong, hard people proud of their ability to overcome difficulty and triumph over adversity.

Fire was ruthless, and so were they. Fire was harsh and unforgiving, refusing to bow to just any master. Zuko had had to prove his fitness to rule over his people by proving that he was the most powerful among them. Weakness, especially in the one named their Fire Lord, could not and would not be tolerated or forgiven. It was not even imaginable to a people so hardened by a harsh history of bare survival on the strength of their own ability to do so.

Iroh straightened, his mobile face assuming the concealing mask of stoic indifference every Fire Nation lord prided themselves on. To show emotion---that was weakness. To show pride or shame---that was intolerable. One's strength of character and mastery of self were shown in how one conducted themselves, not in how one reacted. While great emotion was understood and acknowledged, even lauded in some circumstances, the true noble was one who did not allow his fierier emotions to take hold of him, especially not in public, when he was on display before the World.

"Are you ready, my nephew?" Iroh asked, his gravelly voice thick with the unspoken and unspeakable. "The sun rises."

"Yes, Uncle," Zuko said, his own voice flat and expressionless, if firm in its resolve, "I am."

"Let us go, then," Iroh said. "Your bride awaits."

The Fire Lord nodded once, sharply, and turning briskly in a militarily correct about-face, he led the way out of the room and down the long, winding corridors toward his chosen destiny. His step was firm and sure as he strode toward the unknown with no outward sign of the turmoil hidden deep within.

ooOOooOOooOOoo

I stumbled more than once over the long skirts that swathed my legs and feet until Suni scolded me with an almost happy laugh, taking one of my hands and showing me how to pull up my skirts so I would not trip as I was led, dragged, and pushed down the spiraling stairs to the palanquin that awaited me in the small courtyard below. A simple wooden frame, it had been painted blue and yellow, to signify Air and Water, and bedecked with enough ribbons and flowers to look like a milliner's shop had exploded. I was pushed willy-nilly into the cushioned bed, my skirts straightened around me with fussy kindness. I was thankful as Suni, eyeing me with shrewd assessment, stole a glass of fire-wine from somewhere and forced it into my hand. She carefully held away the veils so I could gulp the wine down. It was potent stuff, and I gasped and choked as fire poured down my throat and pooled into my belly.

The cup was whisked away as I hiccupped. Suni scolded me even as she tenderly pinned the veils back into place. "You will do well, my lady. I expect nothing else. You will not shame me."

_Hardly encouraging, _I thought muzzily to myself. I blinked as the giggling throng of women abruptly silenced, parting like water as a broad man in a red and black robe and armor stepped forward. I could not make out his features through the veils that hid the world from me, but his outline seemed somewhat familiar as he bowed deeply.

"My lady, you shine like the very sun on this auspicious day. I hope you will remember me, for we met so briefly, though not so long ago."

I instantly recognized that deep, gravelly-stiff voice. "General Shaolin?"

"Yes, Lady Katara." He was clearly pleased that I remembered him, and pressed my hand lightly before bowing again, deeper than before. "I asked for the honor of escorting you, since I understand your own brother could not come in time for the wedding, and that your honorable father, Hakoda, was one of the sad casualties of the war. I was pleased when the Fire Lord granted my request. That is, if you will allow…?"

My breath caught at mention of my father. I had tried not to think of him, as much as anything else on this uneasy day. Still, I was humbled that so stiffly honorable a gentleman as the old general was would ask for the honor of escorting my litter to the central court, where the formal marriage ceremony would be held with Aang's blessing at the height of the sun's ascension at noon. Perhaps, somehow, I had made an ally of the general, though I was still confused as to how I had. I was touched, and whispered a thank you, hiccupping again. I clapped a hand to my mouth (or to the five veils covering my mouth) in embarrassment. I could feel Suni's beady eyes boring into the back of me, though she did not dare say a word. The General only laughed, though, and squeezed my hand comfortingly in his wide, calloused palm.

"Fire-wine, eh? Had more than you should? That's all right, girl. We all do that from time to time. Hah!" He turned to wave an acknowledgement as an anxious monk came forward to summon us. "Time to go, then, as the sun won't wait on mere men!"

I let out a yelp as the litter abruptly swayed and jerked beneath me. I felt myself sliding off of the slippery pile of silk cushions, but General Shaolin steadied me with a firm hand as the strong, young monks allocated to the task lifted the ceremonial litter up on their shoulders. I could imagine Suni's hot glare scorching me through the back of my head as she took up her position with the other women behind me. Bells abruptly clanged as a fanfare of flutes and jangling gitterns and bleating suni horns struck up a joyously heinous wedding march that left my ears ringing and my head spinning.

That raucous, jarringly obnoxious parade was thankfully brief. The litter, borne along by men not used to the task, swayed and lurched until my stomach clenched in time with my head. I was truly grateful when they abruptly stopped marching to a last flailing shriek of the flutes and bells---an entrance of truly head-throbbing proportions. The tilting motion as they set the whole thing back down almost knocked me off the litter again. General Shaolin was a saint, never twitching once as I squeezed his firm clasp with a white-knuckled grip to keep both my balance and my dignity somewhat intact.

The sun was hot in the central courtyard. I remember that, and not much else. Open to the elements, the wind had a field day flapping the ribbons and snapping the various pennants hung around the filled courtyard. They sounded like sharp blasts of Fire Nation firecrackers, and I was glad of the concealing veils, though they stifled me, as I flinched. This high up, the wind howled and whistled as the sun beat down on me with total disregard for the sweltering silks that bound me from head to toe. The scent of dying flowers was almost cloying, the hum of the wind beneath the bedecked litter all but masking Aang's formal words as he presided over the ceremony.

I must have made the correct responses, which were mostly made up of bowing at various times with a few muttered phrases of agreement or acceptance. General Shaolin, bless him, helped me then, by squeezing my hand to tell me when it was my turn. Aang would mumble something, and then there would be a pause as first the Fire Lord bowed, and some ceremonial token was given, and then a shuffle of footsteps across the pavement as Aang would come over to stand in front of me, a shadow that slowly materialized as each veil was lifted in turn, until only the last one was left. By then the sun had reached its zenith, and I could almost see, though the bright sun made me squint.

There was a stir, and I blinked as General Shaolin's hand left mine. He bowed, making way for someone else. I looked up, startled, as a harder palm encircled my smaller hand and pulled lightly. My head swam again as I tried to scramble off of the litter. My legs had gone to sleep and protested with sharp pins and needles when I tried to move them. I was more than sure I was about to fall flat on my face when the strength of his arm tightened on mine, lending me enough support to get shakily to my feet. Biting my lip at the ungraceful movement and feeling like an idiot, I dropped my eyes as the last veil was torn away. A warm breath on my lips, a quick, firm press of his lips on mine that had me blinking in surprise, and it was done. A cheer rose as the Fire Lord turned and raised one arm in acknowledgement. I stared at his profile, as he turned his face away from me to wave at the flaming fanfare that swirled around us in raucous shouts and swirling music. He was taller than I remembered, far taller, and the lines of his jaw more defined and hard. That was all I took note of before Aang swept me up into an embrace, his whisper making my throat tighten as the tears burned briefly in my eyes.

"Thank you, Katara. Thank you…"

He was swept aside for others eager to offer me their congratulations and best wishes. I was surrounded by strangers eager to bow and greet me, though some were not as welcoming or congratulatory as others, their eyes hard or piercing as they mouthed the frivolous phrases tradition demanded. I bowed and nodded and smiled until I thought my face would crack. I saw Suni briefly, wiping tears from her old eyes as she smiled like a proud little hen, accepting the other women's accolades over the beauty of the whole ceremony. I was too busy being pushed on a wave of laughing well-wishers as they all turned at some unheard signal to head toward the feast laid out in the main hall, which had been thrown open for the occasion.

It was traditional for the bride and groom to share a toast with each person who presented them with a glass and a wish for good fortune. Not a wise tradition, as my vision swam and my head felt light with so much wine. But I could not turn away a single offer, lest I offend the person who shared it. There was much laughter and applause as I knocked back glass after glass, and eventually I was too stupid drunk to care about much of anything at all. I felt oddly outside myself as I was ensconced on one end of the hall, my new husband on the other. Separated until the bedding ceremony---the thought of which had me actually reaching eagerly for the next glass extended to me---I don't remember much of the lavish feasts spread out in our honor. Aang's wives surrounded me on all sides, their chatter like so many birds twittering and cackling to one another as I blinked sleepily and smiled again and again as various men and dignitaries approached my raised seat and bowed, cup of wine or folded charm in hand.

A basket was thoughtfully provided for the folded paper charms or small, offered bits of sentimental verse. These would be read aloud as I was finally taken off for the official disrobing and made ready to greet my new husband in our bridal chambers. I was so flustered by the thought that I welcomed the various men in matching red and black armor who approached me with a full cup and an appreciative shout as I drained each glass in one swallow. I nibbled at the carefully created confections and could not remember anything of what I ate afterwards. The time seemed to drag on and on as my eyes grew heavy and by responses slurred to simple stupid smiles as the alcohol took its revenge. My head throbbed and I wanted nothing more than to fall into a bed and sleep for a thousand years.

Eventually, the long afternoon waned as the sun slowly arced its way across the sky. Fire Nation tradition demanded the bride and groom be bedded together before the sun completely set, and as the golden light glowed welcomingly across the airy halls of the Temple on its western face, I was hustled away out a side entrance almost without notice from the rowdy celebration still going on strong behind me. Escorted by a bevy of giggling girls and smiling women, I could barely remember to pick up my sweeping skirts before stumbling up the long, spiraling staircase. Mind muzzy, I counted the steps, hoping that would help remind my feet that they actually needed to step up onto them. It did, somewhat.

I did not recognize the western-facing tower rooms I was led down, or the suite of rooms that opened up at the very top of the tower. Even one as tipsy as I could not miss the stylized flames made in abstract red-orange waves around the creamy stone walls and what it signified. I was in his rooms, the Fire Lord's, and now, I guess, my own.

I suddenly wished for more wine. A _lot_ more wine.

That desire grew as I was herded into the bedroom. Sparsely furnished, as was the Air Temple's way, it was still richly appointed. Every effort had been made to please touchy Fire Lord honor, and the bed---well, I was rather taken aback to find such a huge monstrosity of bad taste and intricate Earth Kingdom carving set so obnoxiously on top of a dais of carved stone. It was…well, it was…ugly. And huge. And garish. And huge.

There were ooh's and aah's over the monstrous testament to bad taste and not a few ribald comments that left my ears burning. Suddenly everything seemed clear and hard, all my muzziness gone, in that strange way that alcohol has of giving one the impression that they are not drunk, but perfectly in charge of their senses. I tolerated the women who swarmed over me, helping me out of my gown and unpinning my hair as others read some of the sentimental little poems given to me as gifts at the wedding feast. Some were quite good, others obvious quotes from well-known verse, still others plain drivel that made me wince. If I heard one more time how love's breath will keep till death I was going to scream.

There was a deliberate cough behind me and I blinked as Suni gestured with a grand wave for the last robes I would wear this day to be unfolded for all to squeal and admire over. I blushed as the satiny blue silk was unfolded amid the knowing smirks of the older women and the gleeful squeals of envy from the younger.

"I had this made special for you, my lady," Suni actually sniffed, her black eyes bright as the smooth silk slid over me like water, so delicate it was. The hem pooled around my feet, the lines simple and straight, though it clung to my hips and breasts in a way that seemed too obvious. Not that my bare shoulders and the plunging neckline did much to hide the blush that suffused my dusky skin. Thankfully, there was a silky robe to match, one that covered my shoulders at least, and tied at the neck. It hid the goose bumps that dotted my arms, at least, though did little to conceal the plunging neckline that clung to my firm breasts.

It was Suni who tied the simple closure around my neck, under my mother's necklace, which I had worn throughout the ceremony. "Always you must wear that," Suni sniffed again, tears brightening her black eyes. She could not help but scold me, a familiar defense against showing how much she truly cared, I guess. I bit my lip, touched and surprised at the old woman's emotion, as if I were truly her daughter, and not just someone to order around.

She patted my cheek, smiling weakly. "You will be good, child. You will not shame me, I know it. That man who is now your Lord---well, we shall see, shall we? I think he means well, but he is full of pride, that one, as all Fire Nation men are. Still, I think there is goodness in him. You will be all right, child."

I blinked, taken aback by her words. They seemed almost fearful.

Suni squinted up at me, her gaze suddenly piercing as her lips pursed in sudden thought. "You _do_ know what happens between a man and his wife, my lady?"

I nodded weakly, a bright blush rising to stain my cheeks as the women laughed and howled around me, their comments and suggestions growing even more coarse and explicit. Their noise seemed to attract more---which I abruptly realized was coming from beyond the room, as the ribald crowd of men escorting my new lord and husband drew nigh. The women around me must have realized it as well, for they suddenly fell silent, their eyes wide and smiles growing. Several winked at me encouragingly as Suni gave my weak hand a final squeeze, whispering tersely, "Do not shame me or your family, child. All will be well."

The women fell back away from me as the doors were abruptly thrown open amid a cheering banter of shouting encouragement and jokes that had me blushing and dropping my eyes in acute embarrassment. A tall man was pushed in front of the pack as the women squeezed past, giggling and tossing back ribald comments as they exited. I felt oddly bereft as they left, the men staring at me with knowing grins and a few choice observations that made me want to disappear.

"Enough!" That single, harsh word cut through the raucous merriment and I flinched as silence descended heavily in its wake. My eyes remained glued to the floor as there was an uneasy shuffle amid the onlookers, until one of them grinned.

"Impatient, eh, my lord? Can't say as I blame you!"

A roar of laughter greeted the man's crude sally, and there was goodhearted advise fired off.

"Can't be too impatient or hasty, my lord, or else she won't welcome you back a second time!"

"Or a third!"

"Do you think he can last a third?"

"If she wearies him, than I wouldn't mind taking his place!"

"Nor I!"

"He's strong, our Fire Lord. He'll breach her walls with his mighty cannon---"

I wanted to die then and there, truly die. Oh, to be an Earthbender so I could bend the chilly stone floor beneath my feet into quicksand and let it swallow me whole!

"I said, enough!" The command cracked out like a flashing whip, and there was no mistaking that this time the Fire Lord meant business. The crowd went, hardly cowed, but respecting the fact that the Lord had had enough. The doors slammed with a hollow boom behind the last of them, leaving the room echoingly silent.

We were alone at last.

It was not a comforting thought.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own any of "Avatar: The Last Air Bender's" characters, etc. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

**TEMPESTUOUS**

Summary: Ten years have passed since Sozin's war ended. Alliances must be forged between embittered nations, and Katara must marry to keep stable the peace. But can she ever find love in the arms of an old enemy? (Zutara)

_A/N: This was yet another hard chapter to write. Keeping Zuko and Katara somewhat in character while dealing with their denial of who they are is going to drive me friggin' nuts before this is all over. Not that I'm not already pistachio---but aren't all fanime writers? ;o) Many thanks for all the people who reviewed---I'm startled by the response to this story. I was brought to tears and cheers by all the kind words. Thank you so very much!_

WARNING! LIMES AND CURSING (DAMN FIREBENDERS)

_Added A/N: I may come back and write out a lemon for this chapter and post it to affnet and mmorg. Sad as it is to admit, I just wasn't in the mood for lemonade, and told a pissed off Zuko I had a headache. That lame excuse has been saving women for centuries…LOL! (Fate)_

**Chapter Five**

He turned away from the doors and came towards me with a firm stride, stopping just in front of me so that I was forced to look up---and up, as he was far taller than I had remembered, even from our brief contact at the ceremony earlier that day. The thought of that brief contact, his quick, almost-kiss, had me flushing as I tilted my head back to get a better look at this man who was now sworn to me in ties closer, even, than family.

He stared as intently at me as I did him, our wordless exchange measuring the changes we found in each other. I wondered briefly what it was that he saw as he looked down at me, if I were as changed as he seemed to me. It was not something obvious---his hair was perhaps more of a true black than before, but swept back in the same topknot he had sported when first I met him. His skin was tanned, the stubborn lines of his jaw more defined. The scar that flowered around his left eye in ridged lines of reddened flesh like the outline of a bird's wing seemed much the same, the tilt of his eye still narrowed to almost an one-sided scowl. He must have broken his nose at some point or other, as the refined, royal line of it seemed more hawkish than I remembered. He had the same thin lips, the same self-contained expression. The height of him, of course, had changed, and the wide breadth of his shoulders attested to the fact that he had grown into his height in the solid strength of his manhood. He stood proudly, as always, for he had always been proud, but with his feet more firmly planted on the ground in a stance an Earthbender could envy. His face was expressionless, as unreadable as a brick wall, but that was hardly unusual. His eyes, the color of melted gold, were as hard as his expression, but there was nothing unusual in that, either.

There was something there, though, something that had changed him in unalterable ways that made me feel uncertain and---to be honest---a bit intimidated, though the spirits knew I would never let him know _that_. Bad enough that his height had me developing a crick in my neck from having to stare up at him. There was something so solid and overwhelming in his presence, as if he were a banked fire held barely in check and only by sheer will alone---and perhaps that was what made me so nervous. He seemed so much more in control, so certain and sure of his own place in the universe. Every hard line in him seemed to exude power and control, strength and self-assurance as I had never and might never know, for my nature was different than his, more malleable. Perhaps there was even a faint part of me that worried that such power could overwhelm my own until I was all but lost within it.

Life, which had seemed so easily predicted before, was suddenly a frightening, unknown prospect, and I shivered, my eyes widening at the startling revelations that circled my feverish brain in dizzying eddies of useless doubt and misgiving.

He spoke then, in a quiet voice that made the flesh rise on my arms, though his question was courteous and inane. "Are you cold?"

I mutely shook my head no, though I wrapped my arms around myself to try and stave off yet another shiver. What an idiot I was, to be so spooked and for no good reason. But his eyes, his eyes were so molten a gold in hue, like lava, and they seemed to burn straight into mine, piercing straight to my soul. I could not tear my gaze away from his as he stepped closer, whispering softly, "It's been a long time, Katara."

It had, and he was not as I remembered. It was unnerving, and perhaps it was the alcohol I had over-indulged in earlier that was bringing my buried emotions and suppressed fears to the fore, for my reaction to him was not normal for me. He was so close I could feel the heat of his skin, as if the fire of his inner chi could reach out and burn me to ash. It was not a comfortable thought and I stepped back away from him, unbalanced by the sheer cowardice in my retreat.

Something flickered deep in his eyes, something I could not claim afterwards to have even seen, but his expression grew remote, as if a wall had been built between us. I frowned at the thought, my brows drawing together as I chided myself for acting like a scared little bunnyroo. Zuko was but a man, only a man, no matter what titles and trials he had inherited from his birth. He was the Fire Lord, true, but I was a Waterbending Master, a formidable one, and I was not one to ever back away faint of heart from a fight. I was as proud as he, and would not let him intimidate me any longer.

My chin rose, my lips set in a determined line. Taking up the silent (and probably one-sided) challenge, I gathered my courage and stepped back towards him, so that we were even closer than before. I had to tilt my head back again, and that damn crick returned, but he seemed to relax minutely, even grinning slightly as his eyes warmed, the tension breaking suddenly between us.

"You're taller," I said rather stupidly, not knowing what else to say.

He shrugged, a rippling movement that caused the muscles in his wide shoulders and arms to flex under the loose silk of his formal kimono, his armor having been discarded sometime earlier. "Yes."

What was I to say to that? I kept staring up at him, feeling uncertainty creeping back up my spine. It was a weird feeling, but one I had gotten far too used to as of late.

Damn it.

"You've changed as well," he said, his eyes sliding down to stare at my breasts, which were revealed far too much for my liking by the plunging neckline of my sorry excuse for a nightgown. I felt a flush burning up my chest and cheeks as I fought the urge to cover myself with my arms once more. I hated feeling so exposed, and he must have sensed it, for his gaze abruptly rose back to mine, an ironic twist to his lips.

Well, this was awkward. Far more awkward than I had imagined, though what I had imagined was not even close. What does one say when caught in such a situation? Hi? How are you? Nice to see you again. Glad---or maybe not---to marry you? "Read any good books lately?"

"What?" He blinked, taken aback.

I flushed, suddenly realizing I had said that last thought aloud. _Great move, stupid!_

"Heh…uh…just trying to break the ice," I mumbled and stared over his right shoulder, not wanting to meet his eyes.

"Ice. Yes." He seemed at a loss for anything to say. We both seemed stuck in the same boat and that thought was surprisingly comforting to me. The awkward uncertainty between us made him more human and less of an enigma.

I had never been good at dissembling. There were questions burning in my mind, but I wasn't sure how to broach them. 'What now?' was a good one, but that seemed childishly unsophisticated. Nothing else was coming to mind, though, so I just stood there and so did he.

"So, what now?" I finally caved, growing tired. Patience was never one of my strengths.

"Ah…well…" His eyes flicked toward the bed and then back to me. I pretended to study my nails intently, flushing like a girl half my age. Not that I was that old, but I had seen and experienced a lot in my short lifetime and often felt older than I actually was.

Not that I was feeling anything like that _now_. Instead, I felt decidedly foolish, somewhat intimidated, somewhat put out and deflated and definitely tired.

"It's been a long time, Zuko," I offered desperately, forgetting that he had already pointed that particular fact out.

"Yes," he agreed, his gaze closed and measuring. There was not much to read on those hard features, but his eyes were another matter.

"You look good. I mean, ah, that you look well. Fit. Healthy. Strong," I said, digging myself deeper into a hole. The heat of another blush stole up my cheeks. One would think I would have run out of them by now.

"Yes," he said, clearing his throat. "I am. Healthy, I mean."

"That's good." I tried hard not to stare at him, or the bed. Both seemed so huge in the room, taking up far too much space.

Abruptly coming to life, he stalked across the large chamber to pour himself some wine from a bottle left conveniently on a sideboard. He lifted a dark brow in my direction, holding the opened flask over a second cup, and I nodded sharply at the silent question. I shouldn't, after all my earlier imbibing, but I was desperate for something to dispel the awkward tension between us. Pouring with a liberal hand, he picked both glasses up and brought one over to me. I took it, my fingers brushing his.

"Should we toast?" he asked, his deep voice lightly mocking.

"What?" I didn't understand him, or what he was doing.

"You've toasted enough, then, for one day." The wall was back, and I felt chilled by the cool calculation in his distant gaze.

"No, I…" I floundered, not knowing what to say. I hated how much he flustered me, and was growing irritated with his abrupt changes in mood and meaning. "What are you asking me?"

"It's not obvious?" he asked sarcastically. I hated sarcasm.

"No. It isn't," I snapped, allowing my anger to show a bit. "I don't know what you are doing, and I won't play a game I don't know the rules to."

He grew still, the expression in his eyes (his only expression, actually) seemed almost surprised. "You're serious."

"Of course I'm serious!" My voice rose, almost shrewish, as all the tension of the past few hours caught up with me.

"Then all that out there," he waved his hand at the door, as if I would know what he was getting at, "then all that was not for show? To win the men's loyalty?"

"Loyalty?" By the spirits, I felt slow and stupid, but his twisted word games were giving me a headache. Why in all the heavens had I ever agreed to marry this crazy lunatic? The twisted coils of his mind were too much for my own tired brain to pin down and I felt inexplicably angry that he could stand there so accusingly without me even knowing what it was he thought I was guilty of!

"That is a good question, isn't it," he said, his expression hardening. "Loyalty."

"What are you going on about now?" I demanded, furious at his strange mood swings. Had I just married some manic madman? He couldn't be as crazy as he seemed, although maybe I was giving him too much credit. He was Ozai's son, after all, no matter how many times he had switched his loyalties.

"You're a fine one to talk about _loyalty_," I said, smarting under that chilling gaze. If anything, it grew harder at my sharp words, a flash of pain flickering deep in the golden eyes that bore into mine.

I felt immediately contrite. I never liked causing anyone pain, and by his expression, I had fetched him a low blow, one that had thrust deeply. I was always too quick to anger, always regretting the words I spat without thought as to the pain they might cause someone, too caught up in my own damnable pride. It was something my teachers had tried to make me see, something I had always known was one of my failings.

"Zuko---I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Truly." I held out a hand to him in entreaty. He looked at me, impassive, unmoving, cold and proud and hurt. The water in my very nature called out to me to heal that hurt and I could only swallow my pride and offer sadly, "I'm an idiot. I am always saying things I don't really mean. I'm just so nervous and uncertain about all this…this marriage and everything. To be honest, I'm scared. Really scared. I don't know you. I don't know who you are or what you will do. I don't know if this was a good choice or if it will even work. We are so different, and there is so much between us…"

He just stood there, silent, and I suddenly deflated, slumping back on the side of the bed's mattress in defeat. There was nothing more I could do or say. I had already exposed more than I had ever cared to, and it had done nothing. This had been a mistake, a bitter mistake.

He was suddenly there, kneeling in front of me. I looked at him and could not read the strange mix of emotions that glowed in his fierce gaze. I made as if to speak, but a calloused finger pressed lightly against my lips, bidding silence. So I just stared at him, as he stared at me, and was caught by surprise as his hand lightly brushed the stray hairs that clung to my cheek back behind my ear. It was a gentle gesture, and for some reason the tenderness of it made my heart ache even as the beat of it sped up. I blushed in confusion as he leaned closer, his eyes lowering to stare at my lips, which I had bitten in uncertainty.

"I want to kiss you," he said abruptly, his voice husky.

"Ahh…" I didn't know what to say to that bald statement.

"May I?" He asked, his eyes boring into mine. The heat of him was almost palpable. I trembled, caught up in that heat, and wondered what the hell I was doing as I nodded slowly.

His kiss was soft, undemanding. His lips worked over mine with tentative pressure, a feather-light exchange that was almost heartbreakingly tender in its gentleness. I suddenly wanted more from him, but the warmth of his mouth left mine and he sat back just far enough to whisper, his breath still warm on my skin, "Do I really frighten you? I don't mean to, Katara."

I shivered. "I think I know that," I said, almost wonderingly.

"We should toast, my lady," he said, his gaze holding mine. I had all but forgotten the cup that still dangled in my tightly clenched hand, and I blushed as he brought his up to mine. Tapping the rims lightly, he said almost tiredly, "To loyalty, then, and to us."

I nodded, mumbling through the words. "To loyalty…to us."

I drank then, as did he, and when I was done he took my glass and left it with his beside the bed. Leaning back up, he cupped my narrow face in his broad palms, the calloused fingers feathering lightly along the upper curve of my jaw, close to my ears. He paused a brief moment, as if seeking permission, before kissing me once again.

This was far different than the other two. His kiss was hard, demanding, pressing his claim and desire as if he would brand his mark upon my very soul. I was stunned breathless by the fervency of his mouth upon mine, stirring up such a whirlwind of emotions and reaction that left me almost giddy. His tongue slid along my bottom lip, tantalizing my mouth with tingling sensations I had not even realized were there. Instinctively, I opened my mouth to experience more of that strange headiness, and his tongue swept inside to twine with mine as my breath caught in a curious moan of awakening need.

Confused as I was by my response to him, the havoc he was wreaking on my senses was too delightful for me to ever want to stop. He rose up beside me, his arms sliding over my shoulders to hold me closer to him. His skin seemed to burn with a fire that threatened to overwhelm me, but it was a fire I strangely hungered, wanting to burn as never before. The thought was disturbing, as my nature was not fire, but water, and I could only equate this hunger with the sea during a restless storm. The waters rose within me, pooling into a spinning maelstrom of utter yearning that swept me along on the crest of their rising wave until I was all but drowning.

His tongue ravaged mine again and again, his hold tightening until I felt as if we were melded as one and not two. I gasped and almost sobbed as his lips left mine to grab needed breath. His look was as stunned as mine must have been, and he said hoarsely, "By Agni, I never expected such passion from a Waterbender…"

I stiffened at the slight, but he only kissed me again, his lips claiming my weak protest and sending it spinning away on the chaotic whirlwind of utter sensation as the tides of desire swamped over me once more. Burgeoned on that rising wave of raw hunger and fierce need, I attacked him head on, returning his turbulent kisses with my own. Sweeping aside his tongue, I dueled with mine until I was exploring his hard lips as he had with mine. Demanding entrance, I mapped the hot darkness of his wet mouth, the taste strange and heady as the heat threatened to overwhelm my senses and take away my last breath….a breath I did not mind surrendering, so lost was I to anything else but the churning seas of our rising passions.

ooOOooOOooOOoo

Zuko lay on his back, his eyes staring up at the distant ceiling without truly seeing it. One arm was bent, hand under his head, supporting it against the pillows in a common pose, the other curled loosely around the shoulders of the woman who lay sleeping at his side.

His eyes lowered to look down at her, his expression tightening. She curled against him, her cheek resting on his bare chest, one brown hand splayed open along his abdomen. Her hands were small, but the fingers were long and narrow, the nails neatly clipped. The better for healing, perhaps. They were not as soft as they looked, for she had calluses on the tips and at the base of her palm. They were faint, though, as if she had once worked hard with her hands at many a task before but not so much as of late. Interesting, that. He would have liked to ask her about it, as he would have liked to ask her many things about herself, curious as he was, but he did not know if she would welcome such intrusion. She seemed, at times, to be as contained as he, himself, could be, and he would not have welcomed such pithy questions. He was very much a private person, always had been, and he would understand perfectly if she did not want to share such inane and trivial things with him.

Still, he did wonder, and wished that he could ever trust somebody enough to actually open up like that with them. It must be incredibly freeing.

And stupid. To open up like that---that was to leave a vulnerability and weakness he could ill afford. He was not like other men. He was the Fire Lord. He could never trust anyone not to use that fact against him. Even if she meant well and happened to drop some small little secret by casual accident into the wrong ears, then the consequences could be dire. He had seen that happen too many times in his life to ever let it happen to him.

He was not that foolish.

Still, he felt strangely lonely, even with her curled so innocently against his side. He stirred restlessly, uncomfortable with such emotion. Damn it, anyway! The truth was that he didn't know her, didn't have one clue, and he wasn't sure he ever could. There were depths to her that he could barely sense, but they made him uneasy. She seemed so innocent at times, so naïve and simple and self-accepting. She wore her emotions on her sleeve for all the world to see. It was a weakness to be that open and accepting. It left one vulnerable to others in a way that made him twitch with discomfort.

Perhaps she was just shallow. He had known women---and men---like that, too many of them. They, too, had worn their emotions on their sleeve for all the world to see---but those emotions were quick and fleeting, without true depth or feeling behind them. He might even be lying to himself, thinking that there was more to her than he could know or understand. It just might be wistful thinking on his part, and it was terrible to put such expectations on her. She might be as simple as she seemed---though that, too, seemed a lie to him. He had known her, or thought he had. Their past and the relationship between them was so complicated, but she had always been so direct---at least, emotionally---when dealing with him. He had known her anger and her hurt, her bitterness and distrust. He had also---briefly---known her hope and her kindness, her open heart that had held room for forgiveness. He had betrayed that forgiveness, and she had not forgiven him again, even when he had tried to make it right between them. She had spurned his fumbling attempts until he had given it up as lost, and dealt with her on as cool and distant a level as he could, though it strained the friendship budding between him and the Avatar and the others of their small group at the time.

Her warm breaths brushed against his skin in a slow, even rhythm. It was clear that she must be as exhausted and worn out as he, but he could not sleep. It was hard for him to sleep. It was easier to brood, although that was not particularly productive and hardly worth his time. Normally he would have turned to any of the namelessly endless tasks that always awaited him---most of them the bureaucratic nonsense that came with his title. He didn't know how his father had ever borne it. Ozai had been known for his impatience for such things, and had always palmed such nonsense off on his many advisors and sycophants. Zuko had decided early on in his reign that he would never push off even the smallest responsibility onto someone else. He was the Fire Lord, not anyone else, and if his responsibilities were enormous and growing more burdensome by the day, than so be it. That was just the price that came with the job.

Besides, he could hardly trust anyone to do as thorough a job as he, and he refused to let even the smallest matter go out of his control, lest it grow into bigger a problem than he would ever want to deal with.

It would have been nice, though, to have some help from time to time…

Ah, well, that was the price of power. There were many.

He often had to act more decisively than he felt. More in control, more commanding, more---kingly. He was the Fire Lord. The people expected that sort of thing. The Court, who had anticipated his failure when first he lay claim to the Iron Throne, demanded no less. Any sign of weakness or indecision on his part would have signed his own death warrant in bloody lines of rapacious fire at any time over the past ten years.

He was not a fool. If he were to retain any kind of command over the fiery factions of his Court, than he had to appear to be as iron of will as the throne. He had buried his inner doubts in his own abilities long ago, knowing intuitively that such weakness could never be exposed, lest his end be quick and bloody. He had become a past master at ignoring the niggling doubts that could plague him from time to time. Occasionally, though, they crept out of hiding, as now, to nag at him with insistent, insoluble questioning.

He knew full well his own strengths and weaknesses. Little could surprise him anymore. Katara had, though. The passion within her---the fire. It was unheard of in a Waterbender. Unexpected. Unsought, un-thought, and yet---nice.

_Now there's a descriptive word. _Nice_. Idiot!_

He _was_ an idiot. He had felt like one, walking in here and seeing her so---changed. So grown up. _So---succulent._

Shuddering at the sudden image of his fat uncle that _that_ thought called up, Zuko shifted his weight uncomfortably on the giant bed. The girl cradled at his side murmured a sleepy protest and buried herself further into his warmth even as he tensed, afraid he had awoken her. He was surprisingly loathed to greet her, uncertain what he---or she---might say. What could he? Good morning? Nice to see you? Nice to fuck you?

Agni, it had been nice to fuck her. It had been great. Phenomenal. Earth-shattering.

Scary.

He hadn't lost control like that in---years. He hadn't felt as alive as that in---years. He hadn't felt as vulnerable and stunned as that since the damn day he had finally realized that his ass hole of a father could never, would never, love him, and would only use him as he used everything else---for his own benefit and unendingly mad ambition. On that day his loyalties had turned for the last time, like a compass finally pointing true north, and he had abandoned his so-called family for the Avatar. His eyes had finally been opened to the truth, all the bloody horror of it, and his own actions and honor had been found wanting.

He was uncomfortable with the memories, even now. Iroh was a saint to have forgiven him for all that he had done to the old Dragon. He didn't understand it. If their positions had been reversed, he wasn't sure he could have forgiven himself for all the terrible things he had done.

He hadn't, actually.

_Why the hell am I thinking about all this crap? _He scowled, staring hard at the golden coverlet that bunched around their lower bodies. There were stylized flames embroidered into the rich cloth. Typical Airbender---subtly elegant and fluid. Air was much like Water in that respect.

She was elegant and fluid. Every controlled motion seemed full of flowing grace and certainty. He felt stiff, awkward, unbending and (shudder) Earth-like around her. He was surprisingly angry about that thought. He felt like a teenager again, caught in that awkward stage where he never knew what to say or feel. It was unnerving and irritating as all hell.

The fact was, he felt almost intimated by the Waterbender now sleeping by his side. By Agni, that was a horrible thought. He could not be intimidated, he was the _Fire Lord,_ damn it! But somehow, some way, this girl---woman---made him feel as if he tread on thin ice, and all the more irritated for that fact.

Truth was, she was not as he remembered. She was beautiful. Agni, was she beautiful. He hadn't expected any less, for the promise had always been there, but he hadn't expected to be so overcome by the fact. She was smaller than he had pictured, and slighter. Slender and lithe, yes, he had expected that, but she was curvier, her hips and her breasts fuller than he would have imagined. Her facial features had narrowed to lend a delicacy to the high cheekbones and stubborn jaw. Her nose, slightly upturned, and the sweet bow of her full lips were the same, but her eyes seemed larger, more almond in shape than he remembered. It could have been the kohl that darkened her lids and smoked the outline of her thick lashes, but he didn't think so.

Her hair, always abundant, was longer and more wavy and wild, though that could have been from the tightly braided coiffure she had sported earlier that day during the wedding feast. Dark brown, a duskier shade than her almond skin, it fanned behind her in rippling waves across the satin sheets. He remembered the feel of it in his palms, spilling through his fingers as he cupped her face to kiss her, and shifted uncomfortably as his groin tightened at the memory.

He wanted suddenly, fiercely, to kiss her again. Kiss her to wakefulness so that he could imprint his fingers once more across her tantalizing skin, experience once more that surprising passion that lent fire to his own, but he knew such a move would only be crude on his part. She had been a virgin, a tight one---by Agni, damn tight---and he had been a bit rough in his eagerness to claim her. Too eager. He had abandoned caution and skill for uncontrolled lust, and she would probably be sore as a result. It was true that she had matched his passion---he could not actually say who had conquered who there in the end. It was daunting to admit that he had actually lost control so easily, that the fire in his loins had burned so fiercely he could not now recall when and how control had slipped from him.

She was so delicate. So sweet. So feeling. So innocent. So---surprising. It was---disturbing. Irritating. He didn't need such distraction in his carefully controlled life. He didn't need such disturbing thoughts or such useless brooding. He needed distraction of a more productive kind. There were those reports from the Fifth Infantry to go over, the ones stationed on Crescent Island, as well as the information gathered by his personal spy network on the imperial court and their true reaction to his unexpected alliance with the Water Tribe. His troubled mind would be better spent in ferreting out any inconsistencies in those reports than in endlessly questioning himself, as he was now.

He did not want to disturb her, she was sleeping so soundly. Better if he took the reports to the small study kept just off this suite. Better if he put some distance between them. This was a political alliance after all. He had already spent too much time brooding on the past and the future. The future would take care of itself, the troop reports would not.

Slipping from the bed and her side, he paused as she murmured again in her sleep, rolling into the faint warmth left behind on the sheets from where he had lain. Feeling a bit awkward, he covered her bare shoulders with the thicker blankets. Satisfied he had done right by her, he turned away. Grabbing up the satchel of papers and a robe on his way out of the room, he did not look back as he left.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own any of "Avatar: The Last Air Bender's" characters, etc. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

**TEMPESTUOUS**

_Summary: Ten years have passed since Sozin's war ended. Alliances must be forged between embittered nations, and Katara must marry to keep stable the peace. But can she ever find love in the arms of an old enemy? (Zutara)_

WARNING! ADULT LANGUAGE AND REFERENCES WITH LIME SERVED ON THE SIDE!

_A/N: When I started this story, I wanted to see if I could use a more romantic, formal style of writing than how the characters are depicted in the show. It's been hard to keep some of them actually _in_ character---Aang is one I couldn't. :o) You'll also notice in this chapter how Katara calls her husband, "my lord." That is definitely out of character for her---but kept with the formal style I'm using, so I left it as is---after leaving a few head-sized dents in my desk agonizing over it. Anywhot, I wanted to thank everyone again for the awesome reviews. They are truly humbling. (Fate)_

**Chapter Six**

My waking was like parting with an old friend---with great reluctance. My sleep had been so deep that it was like wading through layers of awareness as my conscious mind slowly asserted itself over my unconscious. I gradually became aware of my surroundings, from the feel of the smooth sheets beneath my cheek to the pocket of warmth that surrounded me. Stretching was a luxury I savored, wiggling my toes and fingers into the wide expanse of the mattress as I yawned, my eyes blinking open to regard the empty room with bemusement.

Curling back into the warm blankets, I eyed the silent room with muzzy curiosity. I felt no alarm---I was not so daft-headed as to forget where I was---but the shadowy silence was different by day than it had been last night, when I was overwhelmed by impressions. The bed, while still huge and ugly, was of a nice size to be swallowed up in, and the room far more spacious than I remembered. There were a few doors, all closed, that led off of it and the walls were circular, part of the outer edges of the tower. The bed was on a raised dais, also circular in outline, mimicking the curvature of the walls. I was amused at the prominence the bed was given, as if the builders of this room wanted its purpose as a place for repose spelled out with no error, not trusting to the intelligence of its future occupants to determine its use.

My lord was obviously not here, but I wasn't that worried by the fact. Although I did not know what exact time it was, the morning felt well worn to me, who had always been a bit of an early riser. It was odd that I had slept so long, but not unexpected. The excitement---not to mention, the alcohol---of yesterday, as well as the sleeplessness of the night before, would have ensured my somnolence even if a gale three blizzard had been howling about the room. I did not blame Zuko for leaving me to sleep myself out and was rather touched by the courtesy.

He was a mystery, that one---one hard to figure out. Cuddling deeper into the warm blankets, I touched my lips with wondering fingers, smiling faintly at the warm memories I had of the night before. _Very_ warm memories---I felt a blush rising as I thought again of the unbelievable passion that had built between us. His fire burned hot---almost frightfully so---but he had been deft and---kind. Very kind. Very gentle and patient and surprisingly understanding. He had been a sure guide to my faltering steps, but once my steps became emboldened and more certain, he had backed off and started treating me as an equal partner, one who trusted me to be able to do my part as he did his. It was a refreshing approach, one I would not have expected him capable of. He seemed to be so controlling at times---I hadn't thought that he would have given over the reins as he had, allowing me to explore him as he had me.

The memory of those explorations lent a deeper blush to my cheeks. I idled some time exploring the wonder of them. I knew now why a person might give all for that feeling, and was a bit surprised and disgruntled to find that something I once viewed with a bit of ironic, somewhat superior, amusement was something I finally understood. It had been innocence---virginal innocence---that had lent me such a supercilious attitude toward the foibles of love---or, at least, the act of love. I was not a sheltered girl---my Gran-Gran had been healer and midwife as well as Elder of my home village, and I had been her assistant from my earliest memories. I knew full well what happened between a man and maid, at least the mechanics of it, and was also certain of the outcome of such acts if no sensible precautions were taken.

Sensible precautions---there would be none of that needed in my case. In fact, it was rather expected, even demanded, that I supply my new lord with an heir and the sooner the better. Pushing back the blankets, I touched my flat stomach with inquisitive fingers, curious if the Lord's seed had yet quickened inside of me.

Speculation was useless, though. I would not know for a month or so if I would come from my bridal bed pregnant. There was no use in wasting time on conjecture---time itself would tell me soon enough.

My fingers wandered over my skin, wondering anew at the sensations stirred within me, sensations stirred so completely and yet so easily by a mere man's touch. Not that Zuko was a mere man, he was far more than that. He was---well, he was a contradiction and a conundrum, and the spirits knew it was as wasteful of time to spend brooding on the tangle he represented to me as it was in speculating if I were yet carrying his child.

I was ever practical, even if I was still rather idealistic. I had spent enough time musing on the night past and I was now ready to be up and about---if a bit reluctant and shy to confront my lord by day. Remembering how loudly I had called out his name the night before at the height of our passion made my skin positively roast from the flush that crept across it. Deciding to push that thought away with the covers, I climbed somewhat awkwardly from the bed (for I was, I must admit, somewhat sore) and groped around for my discarded robe.

I did not know what had happened to my nightgown---it was torn, I know, in our haste, and I was too embarrassed by the fact to try and look for it among the tousled blankets on the bed. Pulling the blue robe to me, I huddled the draping fabric closed. The impractical tie was held loosely at the neck and would do nothing to adequately cover me, so my first thought was to find something else that would.

Trailing the long hem behind me, I tried the first door and found a small office. The desk was bare but for a locked satchel. Several sheets lay crumpled inside the waste bowl, but all writing supplies were cleared off of the surface. Closing the door, I went to the next and found a small dressing room. Everything neatly folded and hanging inside was of rich colors of red, gold and black and was most decidedly masculine. I breathed in the faint scent of leather and the indeterminate scent that bespoke _Zuko_ to me. It was something akin to sandalwood and incense, something akin to the sulfuric aftermath of a burnt match, something even faintly resinous. I could not name it, but it was a scent I remembered from long before, when we had sheltered in the Western Air Temple and I---well, I had snuck into his rooms, many a time, trying to find anything to disprove his stated intensions to help the Avatar.

Hurrying past that memory---which was not of my best, I have to admit---I turned my attention to finding something I could wear. As much time and energy as had been put into making up my trousseau, one would think one of us would have had the presence of mind to bring my things here yesterday. But caught up as we were in the excitement of the wedding, I could not fault anyone, including myself, for the oversight. Once I found something to borrow, I might head back to my own room and retrieve something a bit more suitable than the over-large tunic and short pants I finally settled on. They were the simplest I found among Zuko's things---at least, the simplest I could find to don in a hurry. The others, while complicated in ties and buttons, were actually of a severe style, mostly in black or red. My new lord had little taste for variety it seemed.

Lips twitching, I regarded myself in the large mirror in the main room. My hair was impossibly tangled, hanging long and tousled down my back and shoulders. Using a red sash I purloined from one of Zuko's robes, I tied it back in a loose tail. Not that better---my fussy femininity was hardly sated by the rumpled appearance I thus made. I was rather a woebegone vagabond---the short, wide-legged pants tied tightly to my narrower waist coming just above my bare ankles and the sleeveless red tunic falling nearly to my knees. I was conscious of my breasts moving freely under my shirt. If for no other reason than in pulling on some decent underwear would I saunter forth.

Thus determined, I quickly made my way to the double doors that opened directly into the hall. Even as I pulled on one of the handles, the other cracked open and a man in Fire Nation armor, eyes widening as he caught my appearance, made a sharp bow.

"My lady, is there anything you wish?" His question was polite but he could not quite hide his grin.

"Ah…" I blushed for no other reason than for being caught by surprise.

"Lady Katara, if there is any place you need to go, me and Li would be glad to escort you," the soldier said affably enough.

"Escort?" I didn't particularly like that word.

"Yes, Lady. Captain Shi, at your service." The soldier bowed again.

"Thank you, I guess. Ah, Captain---"

"Shi, my lady," the soldier supplied helpfully.

"Yes, Captain Shi, thank you, ah, but I don't really need---"

"May I present Lieutenant Li?" The door widened to show another soldier, who also bowed.

"Ah, hello, nice to meet you, Li," I bowed back and turned back to the captain.

"May I also present to you…Lieutenants, Jie and Yi." Two more men, stationed further down the hall, turned with military precision and came forward to present themselves. They bowed in unison, every line of them stiffly correct and yet showing a glimmer of their differing personalities, for Jie's bow was a bit more debonair, Yi's a tad more reserved. All wore the formidable armor of firebending officers of the imperial army when out of national waters, helmeted and much alike, save for their eyes (for they did not wear the skull-like masks that would hide their features) and a bit of their noses and lower jaws.

"Nice to meet you," I said with another bow and blush and a nervous smile. The four of them relaxed and grinned, towering over me like a stand of trees. They were of a uniform size and seemed much alike, though I would get to know them well in time. They were anonymous to me now, though, in their imperial armor and I did not know what to make of them.

"We have been assigned as your personal guards, my lady," Captain Shi explained. "If you need anything, we are here to serve."

"Ah, actually, Captain, I was just going to run down to my rooms to grab a few things I need," I said hastily, scarcely wishing to disturb them for something so trivial.

"No problem, my lady. We will be happy to escort you wherever you need to go," the captain replied with a serene expression.

"I don't want to take up your time, Captain---" I began politely.

"It's no problem, my lady. We have nothing else to do."

"I'm certain you have more important matters to attend to, Captain---"

"No, my lady. We are your attendants, and we will attend you."

"It's not far---"

"Far enough, my lady."

"Truly, Captain, thank you for your---fervency---but I really don't need an _escort_, you see---"

"It's no trouble, my lady."

"There's really no need---"

"There's always need, my lady."

"It's just to the other tower---there's no danger."

"I would have to judge that for myself, my lady."

My patience finally snapped. "I'm not some weak little girl, Captain."

"No, my lady," he agreed readily.

"I can defend myself, if needed. I have some skill, you know."

"Your skill is renowned throughout the world, my lady."

"I don't _need_ an escort, Captain."

"No, my lady, you don't, but we need to escort you."

"What?"

It was one of the others---Yi, I believe---who explained quite simply, "It's our duty, my lady, to guard you."

"Our honor," Jie added with a rather dashing smile, "and our privilege."

"Your privilege?" I blinked up at him.

"The Fire Lord trusted us, my lady, with the task of guarding you."

"Zuko put you up to this?" I demanded.

"Of course, my lady."

"One would think he knew better!" I snapped. The men exchanged quick grins between them, which disappeared under my hot glare.

"I'm sorry, my lady, but we cannot fail to do our duty. It would be dishonorable," Captain Shi bowed again.

"You wouldn't wish to see us dishonored, would you, my lady?" Jie was positively pleading, the manipulative puppylamb.

My shoulders slumped in defeat. "No."

"Thank you, my lady," Yi said with all seriousness, bowing with grave dignity.

"Fine. Come on, then, though I'm sure we'll wake up everyone tromping around like an Earth Kingdom militia through the halls."

"Everyone is already up, my lady," Li helpfully supplied. "It's late in the day, near noon."

"I don't need a babysitter," I groused not so quietly under my breath.

"No, Lady," Captain Shi agreed with a grin, even as they fell in pairs behind me. I tried to gather what dignity I could, raising my head high and hurrying my steps. They kept up easily with me, the tramp of their boots on the stone an annoyingly loud reminder of their presence. I would have words for my husband when I got hold of him.

We caused quite a bit of a stir---I had not realized how crowded the halls might be, or the open great room beyond. The courtyard was worse, for there were many taking their ease among the flowering fountains. Flushing with anger at my predicament, I suddenly came to a decision and abruptly stopped. My hovering guards were forced to halt in turn. "Captain Shi?"

"Yes, my lady?" Shi bowed.

"Would you quit bowing? You're making me seasick." I sighed at his puzzled look. "Never mind that---I'm just tired. Sorry."

"No apology is needed, my lady. We understand." He bowed again.

"Do you?" I snapped, then felt immediately contrite. I was doing that quite a bit lately. "Captain, do you happen to know where Zuko---the Fire Lord---is?"

"Yes, my lady."

"Where is he?" I asked, determined to rid myself of this traveling circus sooner rather than later.

"My lord is---"

"My lady! Master Katara, by all the gods above and below, how could you be out here in public wearing _that? _Where is your sense, girl! Heavens help me, hasn't anything I've been teaching you stayed with you? By holy mercy, it's lucky I've come or you would be tramping through the whole Temple looking like an ill-kempt barbarian."

I stiffened as Suni's shaking finger wagged right in my face. The guards behind me all clamped hands on their knife hilts---it was lucky that they were not permitted swords---at the old woman's sudden appearance.

Sharp-eyed as always, Suni had noticed their reaction and scowled at the lot of them with a fierce frown. "None of that, now. You want to start a second war? If you'll notice, gentlemen, there are quite a few people taking more than a little interest in what you are doing right now. Stupid boys. Stand down! I'll not hurt your lady, and you'd best get used to my presence, for I have decided that my lady needs me more than my young Avatar right now, and I am going with you when you return home."

"What?" I gaped at her, not entirely certain if the news were that welcome.

"Yes, Lady. You should be pleased. You will be, for I will not let you continue making a fool of yourself like you are right now. Let us hasten away---there's enough people staring, the idle fools. I cannot believe you would show yourself in public in such a costume. What were you thinking of? No, don't tell me, just come now, come along---" Seizing my hand in one tight talon, she dragged me away until we were almost running, my armored escort pounding after us in a double-time march.

Suni kept haranguing me, ignoring my half-hearted protests as she led us up the winding stairs. People scuttled out of the way, the formidable red wall behind me and the crazy harridan in front ensuring our path cleared quickly wherever we went. I was out of breath by the time we reached my old room. Suni threw open the door with a slam and hustled me inside. All four firebenders followed us in, spilling over and taking up all the available space.

Suni turned on them with a glare hot enough to scorch. "Are you simple? My lady needs to change. Out! You can see for yourselves there is no place in here for an assassin to hide---if he were, you great big oafs would have stepped on him by now."

"My lady---" Captain Shi held up a placating hand.

"You will leave. You will wait for us outside. You will let no one---and I mean, _no one_---in until I allow it. Go on, get along with you." She handled them as deftly as they had handled me, hustling them all out the door until she closed it firmly behind them with a satisfying thud. Turning back to me, she put her hands on her hips and scowled.

"Suni, don't you think you're being a little…" _Bitchy_ was not a very polite word, but I couldn't think of another as apt so didn't bother finishing my sentence.

Suni was ignoring me anyway to wave her hands in the air. "What could you possibly have been thinking, my lady, to appear in public---public!---in such clothing! Why, I almost suffered a brain storm when I saw you marching across the courtyard as if nothing were wrong. It's good for you, my lady, that I have decided to leave with you today."

"Wait---what was that?" I stopped her, caught by her last words.

"You'll be leaving soon. The Fire Lord finished up his business this morning with the Earth Kingdom delegates while you slept. He's already taken his farewell from the Avatar, and proffered his thanks and gratitude. I saw to the packing of your things, my lady, as well as my own, and they just need to be taken to the ship. The Lord has already given the order that he will sail with the afternoon tide."

"You're serious, aren't you?" I stared around the room, which was pretty much cleared of my things. Bundles and trunks were neatly stacked to one side. A folded bundle of blue cloth, a few odd things littering the top of it, was the only thing still left unpacked.

"There's little time. You slept long, Lady," Suni sniffed.

"But---" I said, still taken with the suddenness of it all.

Suni's expression softened. She patted my cheek with a motherly gesture. "You're all right, child? Last night---he was good to you?"

I blushed to the roots of my hair and stuttered, "Y-Yes, uh, yes, thank you."

"Good. I thought he might." Suni looked smug.

I coughed, trying to cover my embarrassment.

"Now, then, you must bathe and dress. There is little time---you wasted so much of it sleeping the day away," Suni scolded, back to her old no-nonsense self. "I have some water here---it's cold, but should be enough for you to bend yourself clean. Do so now, and make sure you use some to heal yourself."

"What?" My question was muffled as I pulled the tunic over my head.

"I expect you might be a bit sore. Thanks be, you are a Waterbender and can tend yourself. Most young brides are not so lucky." Suni smirked as I blushed scarlet again. "Go on, then, I'll not look, I promise. Take off those wretched pants and give them to me. Wherever did you find such things?"

"They're Zuko's," I said, dropping them and the tunic into her outstretched arms. There was no modesty for Suni, who had already barged in on me at any number of inconvenient times. Her casual contempt for my own embarrassment and her nonchalant attitude about my state of dress (or lack thereof) had forced me to accept her bullying presence whether I would or no.

There were some things, though, that I would not do before her and she was intuitive enough to know it. She pulled up a small screen for my bath and left me to it. Bending the tepid water out of the basin provided, I was quick with my ablutions, taking her advice and seeing to myself as she suggested. I felt better, after, and was grateful enough for her thoughtfulness to let her fuss as she would as I donned the clothing left me. Soft, loose pants, a sleeveless under-tunic and an embroidered over robe that fell to my knees were all of a shade to match my eyes. They were simple in cut but beautifully rendered. Curling lines of darker blue embroidery coifed the draping sleeves and hem. Suni sat me down to see to my hair, which I would have simply braided and she would prefer to twist into some unmanageable confection. The argument between us was soothingly familiar, and we compromised on a braid simply twisted around my head and pinned in place with a few pearl-tipped pins.

I refused the paint she offered, though she warned me that I would eventually have to get used to it, as it was expected of a lady of my station in the Fire Nation. That might well be, but I was determined to reserve that type of thing for a more formal occasion than this. I had had enough paint on my face yesterday, thank you.

I was still a bit shocked that we were leaving so abruptly. I did not have time to dwell on my anger over it---for I _was_ angry, and also decidedly hurt that I had not been consulted about it. I wanted more time with Aang, more time to get used to my new situation in surroundings that were more neutral. I had not even set eyes on my lord since the night before and I was irritated at the high hand he was taking with the ordering of my life.

Truth was, though, that my life was now linked with his, and I might not know the full reasons why Zuko felt such haste to return to his home. I should, at least, give him the benefit of the doubt. I reminded myself that he was as new to this as I, and that we had had no time yet to speak of the expectations we had of each other.

Still, it was rather thoughtless on his part not to even ask me and it soured my mood a bit. I still held more than a little suspicion that he had not---and would not---think it important to ask me much. I would keep peace, though, in front of others. I, at least, knew how to give the appearance of going along affably with his decision. The last thing needed by a ruling lord was public questioning of his decisions by his wife. I knew already that he feared that, though he had not spoken of it in so many words. His hints at loyalty last night though---they had stuck in my mind, and I knew that he worried secretly if I would stand with him.

I would, though, even if I thought he was being a selfish jerk. I was not that much of a simpleton not to recognize the hazards of showing division between us. I would have quite a few words, though, once I was able to see him alone and in private.

That was not to be for some time, however. As soon as I was dressed and ready, Suni was ordering my imperial escort to make themselves useful and start hauling some of the baggage down. It was funny to see how quickly they jumped to obey the little old woman. She was a past master at handling people and directed her troops like a general, her sharp tongue falling on any and all who paused even for a fraction of a second before doing as she bid.

This did not exclude me. She was horrified when I made motions toward picking up some of the bundles to carry down myself, more than willing as I was to help and more than used to doing so. Nearly choking on her indignation, she hastily plucked them out of my arms and into a startled Jie's. "Take that, soldier, and ask for some of the children to come and help. There's more here than I would ask you or your comrades to carry."

"You," she rounded on me, "will leave now with me before you take any more strange notions into your head about helping to do your part. You are doing enough, Master Katara, in being yourself."

If I was being myself, I would have picked up one of those bags and be damned to her offended outrage of it. I felt uncertain and off-balanced by her criticism and her poignant stab at my instinctive desire to lend a hand. I felt ill-at-ease being waited on and felt foolishly out of place as they bustled around me. I needed to be more than just ornamental, and Yi must have sensed it, for he paused to add in a quiet voice, "It would be dishonorable to see the Fire Lady carrying her own baggage, my lady. We understand you are willing to help, and thank you for the honor, but there is _our_ honor to consider as well."

I frowned but nodded, thanking him quietly. These men were being surprisingly nice to me, considering I did not know them. My first instinct, truth be told, was to see them as I always had---as faceless soldiers of an enemy no longer an enemy but still one to be deeply distrusted---but they were as any other men. Save for their overly-ornate armor and ugly helms, they could have been any of the young warriors of my own tribe.

I mused on that surprising realization as Suni bullied us into proper formation (myself leading, of course) and set a pace that was properly decorous after my normal, long-legged stride caused her to hiss in my ear, "Mince, my lady, mince!"

Mincing was slow and tiresome. I found my steps growing longer the more irritated I became with it, until I was walking at more normal a pace. Suni had to remain quiet, lest others hear her scolds, as we were now down in the open courtyard, where a surprising throng of people awaited us. Many of them were hazily familiar to me, though I could not remember their names or faces. Suni proved invaluable as she tersely whispered their proper titles in my ear, bowing to the correct degree, I a shade behind her, following her clever lead.

Somehow, we got through it, as well as the less formal farewells of the Air Temple's people. Aang's wives, looking like so many pretty flowers, were sweet yet distant, his children too young to be more than excited. His son, a sturdy lad of five winters, bowed with grave sincerity, though a twinkle in his wide grey eyes reminded me so much of his father at a younger age that it brought an ache to my heart and sorrow at the knowledge that we could never return to such innocence.

Aang awaited me, last of all, and it was hard for me to bid him goodbye again after so little a time. We hugged, ignoring the surprised whispers that rose behind us, and I whispered fiercely, "Gods, I'll miss you."

"As will I," he said, emotion thickening his deep voice. He hugged me harder for a moment with surprising strength and then abruptly let me go, his head tilted slightly to peer past me, an amused smile twitching at one corner his wide mouth. I turned, realizing the crowd's whispers had suddenly ceased, and met the hot gaze of my new lord. He stood at the top of the steps leading down from the central yard, his face expressionless, but his body tensed as if for battle. His eyes were narrowed, the yellow gold of them burning us even at such a distance. I blushed for no reason, feeling like a naughty young girl caught with her hand in the jar of sea prunes.

Zuko strode toward us, the path clearing as if by magic as the people melted back on either side. They watched with baited breath and avid curiosity as to what the Fire Lord would do. I blushed again and dropped my eyes as he came up beside me. He felt overshadowing---whether it was his height or his unspoken tension, I did not know, but it made my spine stiffen and my head come up with sudden anger for the embarrassment I should not be feeling.

Ignoring the oaf I had just married, I smiled sweetly to Aang, all my earlier determination to show unity with my lord's decision flying out the window. "I wish I weren't leaving so soon, but I'm sure my lord has his _reasons_."

"Er…yes," Aang said, mouth still twitching, trying to hold back a laugh.

Suni gave me a hard poke in the back to remind me we weren't alone. Lips thinning, I fought the urge to turn around and smack her. I forced a wan smile which did not reach my eyes.

"Avatar," Zuko bowed, the word greeting, reminder and farewell.

"Sifu Hotman," Aang grinned as the Fire Lord glowered, a reminder as well.

Aang turned to me, grabbing both my hands in his and squeezing them one last time in true farewell. "Be happy, Katara," he said, his grey eyes mischievous as Zuko stiffened up again.

"We need to leave if we are to catch the tide," he said sharply, his tone biting.

"Goodbye, Aang," I said, sad that there was no more time left us as Zuko grabbed one of my hands in his and abruptly turned away. His grip was hard as he stalked back to the stairs, which spiraled unevenly down the steep mountains the Southern Air Temple sat upon. They had been chiseled out of the rock by some of the earthbenders who had come to join Aang in reconstructing the old temple into the new.

Being dragged behind my lord until I was all but jogging to keep up with his longer-legged stride was not a very dignified exit. I tugged lightly at his grip on my left hand, trying to make him let go, but he would not. I jerked back with all my strength and he suddenly stopped, just at the top of the stairs. Suni must have been howling inside for the scene we were creating as I fell into his hard shoulder with an unladylike "Oof!"

Turning abruptly, he let my hand go to grab my shoulders with both of his. Hauling me up and forward, his head tilted down until he captured my mouth with his. His tongue snaked out as I let out a muffled protest, for the kiss was not gentle, but a hard claiming. Heat surged through me until my senses were reeling as my nerves came to tingling life. Cheers rose up behind us as my world spun in a sudden tempest of need and desire. I felt myself go boneless, supported by his hard heat and his harder claim upon my lips. For a long, breathless moment, I was caught up in it, spun about and knocked off my feet by the chaotic whirl of thundering sensation as I melted against him, my only anchor in a raging storm as his mouth ravaged mine again and again.

If he thought I would be cowed and overcome by such raw attention, he was an idiot. Virgin I might have come to him this past night, but no innocent was I to be blinded by passion and think it something more than it was. If he thought I would be overwhelmed by his deliberate manipulation of my desire, than more fool he, for I was not so easily conquered as that. Much as I hungered and ached for more of his fire than just this, still my pride had me stiffening and pulling away, though the slight movement was hidden from our cheering audience.

For a moment, his eyes caught mine, the gold in them hot enough to burn. I trembled, for which my pride howled, caught up in the raw heat of that hungry look. There was pain there, as if I had slapped him, and such poignant need and vulnerability that my hand unconsciously rose to touch his cheek. He almost flinched, a muscle working in his clenched jaw as he abruptly let me go. I staggered back, trying to catch my bearings in a world suddenly shattered of what notions I had ever had of him.

I was left to wonder, though, if I had just imagined it all as he suddenly turned and left, striding down the stairs as if he had not a care in the world. Our loudly cheering audience might have assumed my stunned confusion the mere overwhelming of a young bride's innocence by her manly husband, and I didn't care if they did. It was not---it was doubt and confusion which had me blushing as I slowly followed after, Suni taking my arm as if to support me. She was as fooled as anyone, for she laughed aloud to herself that she had known all along he was a good one!


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own any of "Avatar: The Last Air Bender's" characters, etc. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

**TEMPESTUOUS**

_Summary: Ten years have passed since Sozin's war ended. Alliances must be forged between embittered nations, and Katara must marry to keep stable the peace. But can she ever find love in the arms of an old enemy? (Zutara)_

A/N: Thank you again for all the feedback. It's sparked more plot bunnies than I ever thought hopped. 8D (Fate)

**Chapter Seven**

I remained quiet, my troubled thoughts turned inward, all the way down the long, steep path to the ships that waited at dock below. A small village of fishermen huddled around the impressive quay. The naturally deep harbor allowed the iron ship---which was no different than any of the others waiting further out---to ride beside the long pier. An incongruous fishing boat held anchor on the other side, its wooden hull overshadowed by the giant iron monster that loomed over it. The wind was chilly down here, the scent of the sea and the stench of dying fish giving me a sudden pang of aching homesickness.

Wrapping my hands around my upper arms, I shivered at the touch of the salty wind and wished for the warm furs of home. The Fire Lord stood not far from us on the dock, speaking with three men in imperial armor. I looked for a gangplank with which to board yet saw none. Instead, there was a simple metal and chain ladder that swayed gently in the wind, clanging lightly against the metal hull. My eyes rose in disbelief, following the ladder up the side to where Iroh waved at the top, standing at his ease on the deck while other guards on either side of him stood stiffly at attention.

Suni let out a rather strangled noise. She was not amused at the expectation that we would climb our way aboard---literally. Captain Shi, handing his bundle over to another soldier, cleared his throat. "My ladies, if you will come this way, we have made other arrangements for you."

He bowed, and I stared over his folded form as a simple life-boat, attached with chains, was being lowered to the wooden dock for us to use. Sitting inside it, we would then be hoisted up like so much precious cargo.

_I don't think so._

Suni returned the captain's bow, looking very relieved. Her old bones would not have liked scampering up a swaying ladder draped over the side of a ship. I, on the other hand, was not going to be hauled up like I didn't have two perfectly good hands and feet to get up there myself.

"I'll climb, thanks," I said, darting around Suni's surprised gasp and grasping onto the cool metal rung just above my head. There was a muffled oath behind me as I stepped up, bracing my weight against the swaying motion. Fighting it, I climbed up a few bars before I felt a more solid weight anchoring the fickle ladder beneath me. Glancing down, I saw Zuko's scowling face looking up, one foot on the bottom rung, hands bracing the chain on either side. Even as I watched, he started climbing, perhaps thinking I would need his help or support. Looking up, I saw Iroh grinning down at me. Hiding a smile, I nimbly scampered up the side of the ship, no stranger to it.

I grasped Iroh's extended hand with my own, surprised at the strength of it as he helped me up and over the ship's side. The soldiers in black and red armor saluted as I brushed imaginary dirt from my blue robe, glad that I was wearing pants beneath it. I felt Zuko jumping down beside me. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye and his expression looked wry. He nodded to his uncle, than started issuing orders to depart as soon as the last of the men had boarded.

"That was impressive, Lady Katara," Iroh said, his amber eyes twinkling as he bowed deeply.

Surprised by both his words and the honor he gave me in the depth of his greeting, I returned it, though a bit lower, for I had always respected him.

"Was that not impressive, nephew?" Iroh asked, a brow arched in the Fire Lord's direction. Zuko ignored him, gesturing to what must be the captain of the ship, for he was a rugged man with the weather-beaten features and wrinkled squint of a man who had stared out to sun and sea for untold years. He unconsciously swayed with the ship's motion, as did I, feeling the slight surge of the sea beneath us. It was a welcome feeling, a certain grounding to me who had always felt the sea's push and pull as something so akin as to be one with it.

I breathed deeply, loving the salty tang to the breeze, having missed the damp sting of it on my face in the clean, windswept air of the high mountains. It was chilly, but now not unbearably so. I watched as the rest of the men heaved themselves up the ladder, the last one hauling it up after him and neatly rolling it up to hook it in place with a metal pin.

"There you are, my lady!" Suni stalked out from behind us, her face flushed with irritation as several guards politely made way for her. "We must get you out of this cold. Come---you there," she pointed at one of the men, "you will lead us to my lady's quarters---"

I frowned. "Suni---"

"This is your lady-in-waiting? It is an honor to meet you, Lady Yuan Ji." Iroh neatly inserted himself between us. Bowing with great reverence, he took her age-spotted hand in his.

Suni looked at the old Dragon of the West as if he had grown horns. Snatching her hand back, she said sharply, "It _is_ an honor for you, my lord, but know this---_I_ am not so easily flattered by your legendary charms. I am not so easily swayed by a handsome face and you will not tempt me in the dereliction of my duties to the young Fire Lady."

Iroh looked slightly disturbed at the notion that he would even dare. Suni, oblivious, sniffed further, "I am not so young as to not know what you are about, my lord! It's scandalous, it is, and we just met."

"Er---" Iroh, for once, was caught off guard. I had to cover my mouth with a hand, coughing back a laugh at his rather alarmed expression. It was obvious he had had no intention of flirting with old Suni, but she seemed just as determined that he had.

"Trying already, Uncle?" Zuko came up to us, his eyes glinting in amusement as his uncle flushed.

"Er, um, well, I---" Iroh coughed, embarrassed. Summoning his not-inconsiderable dignity about him, he bowed. "I apologize, madam, if I gave offense."

"I'm sure," Suni sniffed, adding, "Though I'll not be suffering your scandalous attentions again, my lord, with such forbearance. Try as you might, this is one fortress you cannot breach!"

"I'm certain I won't, madam," Iroh bowed again and hastily retreated to the relative safety of the forward deck. I didn't know he could move that fast.

"It is an honor and a privilege to meet you, my lord," Suni bowed deeply to the Fire Lord. "Suni Yuan Ji of the nor'eastern Yuan Ji. I once served Queen Li Lan of Sheng and am now honored with serving your lady wife. I thank you for coming to my rescue. It was sweet of you to defend one so humble as I."

I choked.

Everyone turned to stare at me in some concern. I waved them off, coughing a few times to hold back my laughter at their expressions. Zuko gave me a suspicious look before reassuring Suni that it was nothing. Suni colored up like a young girl and giggled.

_Giggled!_

I coughed again, using a fist to lightly pound my chest as I flushed with holding back my hilarity. Perhaps it was the unreality of the whole situation, but I felt the indescribable urge to lapse into hysterical giggles of my own.

Suni, concerned by my sudden coughing fit, gestured imperially for Captain Shi as she patted my shoulder with touching kindness. "Captain, you will take us to my lady's quarters. She is not well."

Bowing a sweeping farewell to the Fire Lord, Suni asked sweetly for his permission to depart. Eying me with a measuring glance, he gave a sharp nod of dismissal even as the ship's captain approached. I felt his eyes lingering on me as Suni urged me after Captain Shi, the other three bodyguards falling in behind as we left for the base of the ship's tower, where the stairs led down to the crew's quarters.

It felt oddly familiar to step inside the sparsely-furnished room that was normally the captain's cabin. This ship was much like the one we had shanghaied just after the fall of Ba Sing Se back during the war, a rather standard design for the Fire Navy. I had expected something a bit more---well, pompous---but I was glad that it wasn't.

I shook my head as Suni urged me to take a seat. Instead, I stood staring at the red banner that hung above the bed, the black three-pronged symbol of the Fire Nation dominating its center. Lost in memories, I was barely aware of Suni's querulous scolds as she ordered someone to fetch us a light luncheon as other men arrived, boxes and bundles in hand. These were deposited by Suni's whim around the room until she recalled me to the present with a light touch on my arm.

"My lady, lunch has arrived. You must eat something lest your cold grow worse."

"I don't have a cold," I said absently as my stomach growled. The tatami-matted floor throbbed under my feet as the engines engaged. I felt the first surge of the ship's forward motion as I slipped down beside the low table, kneeling on the low cushion provided for the purpose. Suni settled herself across from me and we were left to dine alone. I was rather hungry, and tucked into the simple fare with far more gusto than the older woman, who ate like the spindly bird she oft-times resembled.

Suni seemed reassured by my appetite, though she sighed over my manners. "Yet another thing I need to teach you---but that can wait. We have other matters to discuss right now, Master Katara, if you are finished."

"What matters?" I regarded her warily as she took a long sip of her tea.

"Your behavior earlier."

I choked on my own tea. "W-What?"

Suni pierced me with a black eye. "You're certain you're not taken with a chill or fever?"

Coughing, I shook my head, waving her concern aside. "No, no, I'm fine. You just caught me off guard. What did you say?"

"I said," Suni's black eyes narrowed suspiciously, "that we need to discuss your behavior earlier."

"Why?" I demanded, less patient with her lecturing tone than normal.

"Why, you ask? Why? Because you could have started a war with your stupidity back there at the temple! Blessed be, my lady, can you not see what might have happened had his lordship not interfered?"

"Interfered?" My eyes narrowed, my fingers tightening on the thin porcelain cup in my hand. Anger, slow and sullen, curled low in my belly. It did not mix well with my lunch.

"It was lucky you were that the Fire Lord chose to ignore your little whine and took the high road. He, at least, was able to retain his dignity."

"_Really_," I said, heavily sarcastic. Gods, how I hated sarcasm, especially in myself! To be stooping so low---it made me angrier. I had fought for years to keep that lowest part of myself---or what I saw as myself---tightly bound. Anger and venom, hasty words ill-thought and spoken in stung pride, had never done me any good. Rather, they had lent me the opposite and had often led me to bitterness and later shame after I realized what it was I had said or done at the height of my anger. Such anger and pride had led to years of strangeness between my brother and I, wasted what little time I could have spent with my father, and separated me from what had always mattered most to me. I had often lashed out blindly at the things that had hurt me most when I was young, and the cost of that was too high. I had spent _years_ determined not to let my anger and pride best me again, and refused to give in to it now, but damn was it hard, for Suni knew just what hairs to pull.

"You will not take that dry tone with me, young lady. I am only pointing out what you did wrong and the cost such foolishness can bring. I don't do this for me. I do this for _you,"_ Suni snapped.

"You could be a little nicer about it!" I snapped back, lips tightening to hold back all the other things I wanted to shout at the old crow. I felt the tension inside me, as if I were a cord stretched tight or a storm about to blow.

"Nicer? You want me to be _nicer?_ When your ill-thought actions might see you _dead? _Is that what you want? For me to be nice and to sugar-coat everything so that it doesn't sink home that you are walking a knife's edge of danger? Are you that willfully blind and stupid? I think not, my lady, else I would hardly waste my time!" Suni sneered.

I trembled with the overwhelming fury held inside me. I knew that it was more than just Suni, that it was everything---the tension of the past few weeks, the dizzy confusion of yesterday, the surprising passion of last night, the inattention of my lord in concern of my own feelings, the worry that this would keep on, that he would never give heed my own feelings on anything and everything, the worry that I had made a dreadful mistake and the revelation of the deep pain I had glimpsed, merely glimpsed, in his eyes just after he kissed me. That pain, so fresh, so raw, so deep, so hideously lonely and desperate and aching and blessed spirits---was I even strong enough for it? Had I even seen it? Was I imagining it? Had I imagined it? What was it, why did it affect me so? Why had I felt so heart-wrenched by it? Why did I feel so frightened and fearful that that tortured vulnerability I had seen in him for but one moment and not even sure of that moment was a reflection of something lying deep inside of me, as if he mirrored what lay most hidden in my own heart? I was not that weak. I did not need. I did not need _anyone. _I was able in myself to take care of myself, able to handle anything and everything. Then why, why did I feel so frightened? Why did I feel so vulnerable and nervous and scared? Why, damn it? _**Why!**_

The cup in my hand abruptly shattered, the tea exploding in icy brown crystals that flew everywhere. Suni ducked back away with an alarmed cry, her black eyes widening in fright as the dagger-like shards tinkled around the small table and floor with tiny pings of impact. One grazed my cheek, another my shoulder. My fingers and palm were bleeding sullenly from a dozen small cuts and I could only sit and stare at them, stunned.

I felt empty, dry-eyed and hot with emotion and shame. I closed my eyes, trembling now with that shame and knew how little control I truly had. Master Pakku, he had warned me of this. He had said anger only made one vulnerable to it. My anger made others vulnerable to it, for my wrath was like a tempest unleashed on the innocent, and I never, ever, wanted to hurt anyone by so thoughtless an action of mine, tossing them about as if they were so much sea wrack. I had done it so thoughtlessly in the past, hurting those I loved most---my father, my brother, the only ones I had ever desired _not_ to hurt. My father, bless him, had forgiven me my anger and resentment for his having left us behind all those years ago. My brother, too, had understood, though it was only at Gran-Gran's death that we had spoken of our bitter parting ten years ago. Though it was not bitter on his part---that had been mine, all mine, thinking that he was leaving me behind, too, as he went off with Suki to forge a new life with her on Kyoshi Island. I had wasted all that time, all those years, in silent anger over it. I had wasted what little time I had had left with my father during that weeks-long voyage as Aang recovered from Azula's lightening strike beneath Ba Sing Se, and we had never really had another chance, for before I knew it, he was dead, slipping from me like my mother into the mists of time.

A hot tear slipped down my cheek. By the moon, how I missed them, even still. How much I missed them all…

I felt a pair of thin arms enfold me and Suni patted my bowed head with a gentle hand, reminding me of my Gran-Gran, so stolid a presence and shield for so many years and now gone as well to the mists of the afterlife. Something held tight finally broke inside of me, and laying my head on her bony shoulder I sobbed for all the pain and loss I had cost myself over the years, and she held me, crooning softly in her gravelly voice, "There, there, child, all will be well. All will be well, I promise."

I cried harder, and she let me, her thin fingers smoothing back my hair, which had loosened from its pinned coil to wisp around my neck and ears. I do not know when her words turned from soft reassurance to gentle inference. "There now, child. It will be all right. I did not realize that you had loved him so much."

"Of course I loved him," I said brokenly. He was my _father_ and he was _gone_. What should have been one of my happiest days, my wedding---he should have been there to take part. What comfort he could have given me, what hope and assurance he could have added to calm my fears for the unknown. He had always done that, always put into proper perspective so many things. He had always been my firm anchor in the troubled seas of a child's uncertainty, as I doubted if I could ever fill the shoes of a woman and mother who had been taken from us all too soon.

"Why did you not say something to him? Why did you not tell him? Silly child, all of this could have been avoided!" Suni scolded me softly.

"What?" I said, taken aback. I blinked up at her, scrubbing the back of my hand across my reddened eyes like a child.

"You could have told him. The Avatar would have understood and you would not now be married to someone else, someone you could never love," Suni shook her gray head at me, her dark eyes sad.

"But---" I felt an icy chill go down my spine and turned my head to see Zuko standing there in the doorway, staring at us with no expression on his hard features, his eyes like burning coal.

I could only stare at him in stunned surprise, mind blank at the unreality of it.

Turning abruptly, he left, back straight and shoulders set, jaw tight and look forbidding.

Stumbling up to my feet, I blindly ran after.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own any of "Avatar: The Last Air Bender's" characters, etc. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

**TEMPESTUOUS**

_Summary: Ten years have passed since Sozin's war ended. Alliances must be forged between embittered nations, and Katara must marry to keep stable the peace. But can she ever find love in the arms of an old enemy? (Zutara)_

A/N: Okay, so that last cliffy was a dirty trick and a rather typical ploy. But it came to me suddenly, that chapter was supposed to be something completely different, but isn't it typical of characters to run with a story and leave the poor author staring at the screen in bewilderment? Damn characters. 8P I also apologize for the long wait, my muse went on vacation, but I have captured her again and finally tapped this chapter out. (Fate)

**Chapter Eight**

I ignored the guards who stood just outside the opened door, darting past them just in time to see Zuko disappear around the corner. They followed me, as was their duty, though I paid them scant attention, only aware of the burning need to confront my lord and explain what had just occurred. He led me a merry chase, his long stride making me run to keep him barely in sight. The ship was not so big that I was lost within it, but my mind was so troubled that I could not spare any thought but in catching up with him.

There was a crowd, always a crowd, especially on the open deck, which is where he went. He knew I followed; he was not so ignorant of me not to expect that. He stalked to the back of the ship, his sharp wave dismissing the various soldiers who lingered there. They went quickly, his chilling expression driving their haste. He stopped at the rail's edge, his arms crossed as he stared out at the churning waves of our passage. The other ships flagged ours on either side, both fore and aft, in a roughly diamond-shaped pattern. The last of the uninhabited Southern Islands was already slipping out of sight as the engines chugged determinedly on in a northwesterly direction. The wind, sharp with the smell of the sea, tugged at the sleeves just below his armor and the breeches tucked into his boots, flattening the red fabric against his muscular frame one moment and then belling it out the next. I felt wisps of my hair work free, the end of my long blue robe dancing on the right and wrapping itself to me on my left.

Tucking a loose strand behind my ear, I turned to glance significantly at the pair of guards who trailed after me. It was Li and Jie, both with carefully blank expressions on their faces. They would not meet my eyes, but kept staring straight ahead and out to sea.

"Please leave us alone," I said tightly, the strain in my voice caused by the tension that wrapped itself over me, stiffening my back and shoulders with stung pride. It was hard for me to ask that.

They didn't budge. My fists clenched on either side of me, my lips tightening. This was humiliating enough--they had probably heard every word from the opened doorway, and I did not want an audience for this confrontation, too.

"Go." The Fire Lord's voice was flat, expressionless. He did not turn around as they both bowed as one and went as ordered. I felt humiliated by that as well, that only he was to be obeyed. I felt like a child, an errant child held prisoner by nursemaids. Pride stung, I felt the ever-ready anger nipping up inside of me. I fought it, angry that I had to but feeling that if I did not it would cost me more than ever before.

I stepped towards him, wishing he would turn around. "Zuko, I--"

"Do you love him?" His words snapped out like a lash, sharp as any waterwhip.

"You can seriously ask me that?" What a stupid question, of course he could ask me that! Had he not just seen Suni assume that very thing? My pride was stung, though, that he would believe it. Damn my pride--it may well cost me everything in the end.

He said nothing, not needing to. His silence spoke volumes.

"Aang is my friend, has always been my friend." I chose my words carefully, conscious of the tightness in his shoulders and back, as if he stood against the world and all that it could throw at him.

"Is he more to you?" he all but snarled, turning around to confront me with such an angry look that my eyes widened.

_"No."_ I put all the fervency of my own anger into that true denial.

He didn't look too convinced. In fact, his expression hardened and he even spat, "I don't believe you."

"Why not?" I challenged him. "It's the _truth. _Whatever you think you might have heard back there wasn't. Suni made an assumption--a wrong one."

"Then why were you crying? Why the hell did you admit that you love him?" His voice was low but so angry and bitter he might have been shouting it out at the top of his lungs.

"Because I do!" I shouted back, uncaring now who the hell heard me. The wind gusted, pulling the pins from my loosely coiled braid until it slithered free to dance wildly on the strong breeze as my robe snapped about my legs. Loose brown strands whipped across my hot face, the tears burning un-fallen in my eyes as I stared up at him, my fists balled at my sides.

His eyes narrowed, the gold of them turning frigid, if lava could freeze as yellow fire and not black rock. His fists were clenched as well, his knuckles white.

"I was speaking about my _father_, you idiot!" I shouted up at him, shaking a fist right in his surprised face. "My father! Hakoda! He's dead, remember? I miss him, damn you! Okay? I miss him, he's gone and he will never come back! Just like my mother and just like my grandmother and just like everyone else I love, he wasn't at my wedding, damn it, and he should have been! Just like my mother should have been and just like my grandmother should have been and just like my brother should have been. Maybe I'm just feeling a little selfish and sorry for myself right now but damn it, I _do!"_

The deck trembled under our feet, water surging ominously around the metal hull with the fitful, splashing waves summoned by my raw emotions. Tightening my control, I fought my own rage down to a simmering boil. I still seethed with it, the waves echoing my inner resentment with slapping agitation against the ship's iron sides. Sea spray stung the shallow cut on my cheek, but I ignored it, knowing I could easily heal it later. I glared at the oaf I had just married, angry at him for making me so angry and angry at myself for letting him.

ooOOooOOoo

Zuko could only stare at her. Did she even realize how beautiful she was, standing there shouting at him, her small fist in his face? The fire in her--the raging tempest--damn she was beautiful with those blue eyes sparkling like sapphires ripped right out of the sky, her cheeks flushed and her breast heaving. Wisps of her thick brown hair whipped around her head, the coiled snake of her long braid twisting on the wind as her deep blue robe molded itself enticingly to her skin one moment and then flared out beyond her the next.

He wanted to grab her, kiss her, taste that burning passion that flared in her angry eyes and pull that defiance to him like a moth to a flame. But that very anger denied him, taunting him with the knowledge that she would not welcome his abrupt embrace. She would fight him, and he didn't want that. Never _that_.

He was sensitive enough to know she wouldn't welcome that type of intrusion right now, much as he would like to take her into his arms and hang on to her fiery passion as a dying man to life. A child raised as he was in a house filled with tension, used to the walking on eggshells in the shadows lest he ignite a hyper-sensitive father's ever-ready wrath grew intuitive enough to know when not to press or push. It was a survival instinct, born of a child's self-preservation, and the long habit of judging the mood of others around him took hold as easily and as familiarly as the dao swords to his calloused palm.

"Katara…" He didn't know what to say. Sympathy seemed a shallow thing, apology even more. Part of him still wondered if it was true. He didn't trust her, couldn't yet because he didn't know her. He never had, really. The thought had never occurred to him to try.

He wanted to tell her that he understood. He missed his mother still to this day. It was like a dull ache that flared from time to time at odd moments to catch him unawares at his most vulnerable or inconvenient. There was a part of him that still even missed his father and his sister--though it was for the wistful dream of what he had never had from either, yet had caught fleeting glimpses of now and again, just often enough to leave him hungry for more of their better than their worst.

He couldn't say that, though, couldn't share that he understood her pain and the poignancy of it. He had done that once, back in the crystal catacombs of Ba Sing Se, and she wouldn't believe him, couldn't probably, after his betrayal of her trust right after that.

So he stood there like the idiot she had just called him, feeling the inner doubt and uncertainty of just what to do or say creeping back up his spine in a familiarly horrible way. He hadn't felt this stupid or indecisive in years past counting. The habit of pretending to a more commanding nature had come to be his shield in keeping those inner doubts at bay, until act and pretense had become fact. He hated the uncertain ground he now found himself on, and almost welcomed the cleansing anger at himself that came with it.

He felt the strong desire to lash out at her, to hurt her as she had unwittingly hurt him, but he was no longer the bitter boy who had once flared out at anyone and everyone, angry at the turns life had dealt him. He was a man, not a child, and he knew more fully than anyone how hot uncontrolled fire could burn. He would never do that to her, she didn't deserve it. What she did deserve was better from him, and it was not her fault that he was so flawed a vessel.

Flawed he might be, and yet he knew his strengths and knew how to hide his weaknesses behind that strength. Turning an impassive face to the uncaring world was as simple as gathering up his lost control and ignoring the pain. He slipped back into it with the ease of long familiarity, but she managed to snatch it from him with two simple words.

"I'm sorry." Her whisper was so faint he might not have heard it.

"What?" He was startled she had said it, for she had no real reason to apologize to him. He was the fool jumping to conclusions, not her.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, tone sour as if she hated saying it.

Maybe she only hated saying it to _him_.

He stiffened, bitter at the thought.

"Don't," he commanded, angry that she might feel the need to.

"Don't?" She turned incredulous eyes on him, eyes so blue it was like staring into the sky on a cloudless summer day.

He remained silent, impassive. He did not need to explain himself to anyone.

"You are so…argh!" She balled her fists, her eyes snapping blue lightning as she turned to stare back out on the churning sea. The ship shuddered a bit under the rising slap of the waves against its hull, and he saw the ships further out angling to avoid the rising agitation of the waves that boiled behind them.

It was his turn to say it. It was awkward, though, and came out stilted. "I'm--sorry."

She sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "We don't know that much about each other, do we?"

Her voice was soft, her words almost lost on the gusting breeze. Her long braid blew over her right shoulder, the escaped wisps feathering along her bowed cheek.

He lightly touched her shoulder, seeking to show her his understanding as he could not with words, uncomfortable as he was with them.

She turned her head to look back at him, her thick braid snaking down along the curve of her stubborn jaw. The feathers of her hair lifted from her other cheek, exposing a light scratch along the supple brown skin. Blood had dried and crusted along the shallow cut, and he touched it lightly in some concern, tracing the jagged line with a gentle fingertip.

"You're hurt."

"It's nothing," she demurred, her hand reaching up to brush his aside. He caught it instead, staring down at the myriad cuts and abrasions that decorated her palm.

"What happened?" he asked softly, his thumb tracing over those as well.

Her small hand trembled in his. "I…uh…it was an accident."

"An accident." He couldn't quite keep the skepticism from his voice, or the anger that she would deny telling him what had really happened.

"Yes, an accident." Her words were clipped, angry that he would question her. She snatched her hand back, hiding it behind her like a child. "You don't have to worry so much. I can easily heal them. I _am_ a master waterbender."

"Yes, you are." He stepped back, nodding curtly to acknowledge her protest.

"That came out wrong," she said, clearly disgruntled. Folding her arms about her, she stepped closer to the rail to stare down at the churning spindrift of their passage.

"Are you cold?" He asked, noticing her slight shiver.

"No," she said.

He stood there, not knowing what else to say. Neither did she, apparently. The silence stretched out between them, uncomfortable and all too eerily familiar. The waves, now quiescent, still foamed behind the large iron ship that split them, their salty tang giving the air a chilly dampness that had not been present on the high mountains of the Southern Air Temple.

His was a nation of fire, but their acrid islands had always been surrounded by the sea, and it was as much a part of his blood as it was hers. He had spent almost three years of his life aboard ship, and there was a certain soothing calm to the uncaring ocean that allowed him to surrender the boil of emotions inside of him as he stared down at it beside her.

Perhaps it was enough for now.

ooOOooOOoo

It was hardly enough. By Agni, his nephew could be a real idiot at times!

Shaking his gray head, Iroh folded his arms in his wide sleeves and stared broodingly down on the scene laid out below him. He had a key spot to spy on the pair--not that they had made that much effort to hide their little spat. The two figures, one tall and armored, the other smaller yet standing just as proud and hurt, stood separated by more than just the few feet between them. Both stared down into the water as if they could find answers there in the restless depths, when they could--and should--be looking to one another for them.

_Was I this foolish when I was young?_

Probably.

A grin pierced the brooding general's dark clouds at the fond memories of his misspent youth. _Ah, those were some wild times. And good ones._

It was his wife, may the spirits keep her as beloved as he, who had finally tamed him. That, and a dragon or two.

For a moment he wandered in memories of times long past, when he had skirted the crumbling temples of the Sun Warriors and found his way to the ultimate truth of the fire in his blood. Ran and Sha had been able teachers for the impetuous then-heir to the throne.

How different his life had changed after that. How heavier his burdens, for he knew the truth under the lies his father, Fire Lord Azulon, had always fed him. That was when he had discovered in himself the desire to know more, the driving need to understand more than just the surface of a thing. That was when he had grasped the ultimate truth that there _was_ no truth--only many sides to the same clear-cut diamond.

Ah, well, even coal eventually turned into adamant. Just give it time.

He would have to take his own sage advice, and just give _them_ time. Too bad, really--he had hoped that they would get to that gaggle of grandchildren he wanted sooner rather than later. Well, there was still hope for that. Such passionate natures--and come to think of it, Zuko's jealousy back at the Southern Air Temple had been quite the spectacle. More than the boy--er, man--was ever willing to let show. That little scene up on the mountain had been quite encouraging, actually. Normally, the stony Fire Lord let little stir him up like that, thinking emotion could only weaken him, as it had his father.

Poor boy. He'd understand in time.

Therein laid the problem. Time.

_And here I thought I was a patient man. One is always discovering one's own faults--I think a Fire Sage once told me that. I thought he was a sour old fart at the time._

A smile played around the old general's mouth at the memory. Agni help him, he was glad _he_ had never become a sour old fart. He was much too young at heart for that, and was oft-times surprised when his aging body betrayed him with creaks and pains that should not, by rights, be there.

_Ah, well, with the wisdom of age comes_--age.

How depressing. Really, he was sitting here thinking too much, reminiscing over the past and worrying over the future. There was a time for thought and then there was a time for action. Perhaps it was time he took action--past time.

Zuko had had his moment to reach across the emptiness and take hold her hand, and by not doing so, he had lost it.

_This_ time.

Perhaps it was time, he, Iroh, reached across for both of them and held those hands together in his.

Now, what to do? This would take careful planning. Should he feign an illness? Zuko loved him enough that he would be anxious and vulnerable, and when Katara "healed" him, he would be truly grateful to her.

No, that wouldn't work. Katara was too skilled a healer for him to fake an illness and get away with it. Damn.

Scratch that idea.

Should he come up with some way to get their passions up? Start a fight, maybe? No, that wouldn't work. Look what had just happened. That fight had been a good one, and still they hadn't found any common ground to stand upon and reach some kind of mutual understanding. They didn't trust each other enough to open themselves up like that, and they didn't know each other enough to even start…

They didn't! _Know_ each other, that is. Know enough about and of each other, all the little and big things that could bring forth parallels and bridge the gap between them to allow understanding and sympathy to creep in. You couldn't sympathize with a stranger when you didn't know their plight. You couldn't understand and forgive a stranger when you didn't know where they were coming from. And you definitely couldn't have love--true, strong, committed, grow-old-together and take-it-for-granted love--without building that foundation of what molded your past and would help forge your future, by willing or unwilling consent, for it shaped you, and made you what you were and are and would be.

And how did one achieve that? Through the simple, delightful art of communication, of telling of past and speaking of future, the sharing of dreams and wistful hopes and bitter sadness and the fears you hid deep in your heart. How else could you build trust and understanding except by exploring one another in that wonderfully simple way?

Very well. It was time he had a talk with Zuko, and more than time Zuko and Katara had a talk together. All was not lost, not really, this was only the first day of the rest of their lives. There was plenty of time. They just needed to get busy living it.

Whistling, Iroh went to go lay a trap for his nephew in his study. Knowing the broody boy, he would eventually go there to be alone, and Iroh would be there waiting for him.

ooOOooOOooOOoo

He left before I, not saying anything as he silently turned away. Glancing over my left shoulder, I watched him leave, his steps firm and head up. He did not look back to see if I noticed, and that stung. I quickly turned back around, the feeling of salt sharp in my closed eyes.

It was not the salt of the sea.

Wiping furtively at my eyes, I glanced quickly about to see if anyone had seen my foolishness. I was alone--utterly alone. I should have felt grateful for that fact, but didn't. Instead, I felt oddly forlorn and abandoned. Stupid, I know, and rather silly, but my emotions were raw and confusing. I felt drained, and somehow dead inside.

The sea could not comfort me. It was too indifferent, as was he.

I sighed, wondering why I was so sensitive to that. It wasn't as if I could expect that kind of emotional support from him. We were as yet complete strangers, and I was putting too much expectation on someone I had known in the past to be rather selfishly insular.

To be starkly honest, I was also being rather childish. I had blown old pain and old anger all out of proportion to what they truly were. My anger at Suni's criticism, my own knowledge that I had acted somewhat pettily back at the Air Temple in front of strangers, no less, and done wrong by Zuko in not giving him the benefit of the doubt as to why we had left so suddenly--I had buried that self-reproach in anger that I could let myself feel--anger at the fate now given me and anger at myself for all the past regrets I had always burdened myself with.

It was a sudden moment of inner clarity, and I felt rather ashamed at the sudden glimpse it gave me into my own heart. I was always so ready to lash out on others--when I was really only lashing out at myself.

The burden of that weighed heavily on my shoulders as I turned away from the railing. I wearily traced my steps back to the state-room, barely acknowledging the return of my silent, two-man escort once I cleared the rear deck. I met an anxious Suni in the narrow hallway just outside my room, her manner somewhat subdued as she clucked over my rumpled appearance.

I was quiet, going inside to pick up my water bending flask, which was kept ever near and within reach. Opening the cork, I coaxed a trickle of water out into my palm. Using my other hand, I bent the water over my fingers and palm like a glove, adding my will until it glowed with a softly luminescent light. The scratches itched as they healed, the dried blood dissolving into the soothing liquid that I then applied to my breastbone and cheek, where other flying shards of my shattered tea cup had cut across my brown skin.

Suni, having closed the iron door firmly behind us, went and knelt on a cushion across the room from me. She watched me, her black eyes following my every motion.

"You are beautiful when you do that, my lady," she said, oddly subdued for one usually so vocal.

I didn't say anything, just bent the water back into the flask before firmly twisting the stopper closed and setting it back down on the small trunk beside the low bed that took up half the room.

I sat down on the bed, curling my legs under me and staring down at my hands, flexing my fingers to rid themselves of the faint numbness that came with such close work. Healing myself was often harder than healing others, as it required more intricate concentration to bend the water around myself than around another I was seperate from.

Suni cleared her throat. I glanced at her, and she looked rather uncomfortable. "I must apologize, my lady, for my hasty assumption--"

"Suni--don't," I said, short with her. I was still too uncomforted to want to give comfort. Petty of me, yes, but I just felt so tired and drained. I didn't want to speak of it, or about it, not even to allay the old woman's fears.

I felt a stab of consciousness at that selfishly childish thought, and sighed. "Suni, please don't fret yourself. I explained--"

"So I heard," Suni sniffed, her manner turning somewhat wry.

I stiffened, a flush creeping up my cheeks. Was there to be no privacy for me anywhere?

"Everyone could--you did not attempt to quite hide your anger."

Apparently not.

"I wasn't really thinking about hiding it at the time," I snapped, somewhat shrewish.

"Probably not." Suni grinned.

I could only stare at her in disbelief. The old woman was completely batty.

Getting briskly to her feet, Suni said, "That is neither here nor there. I did wrong by you, and I am sorry for it. You will accept my apology, for I have given it, and that is all that will be said on the matter. Now, for another, your hair has become all tangled and windblown. I must see to it, and then I shall retire, if you will, to see to my own quarters. I am an old woman, and need my rest more than I should at my young age. One would think I was getting old."

I stared at her, not quite believing her abrupt change of topics. She nattered on about some nonsense or other as she directed me to a low cushion facing a trunk against the wall whose lid opened up to reveal a mirror and various bottles and cosmetics so that she could see to my loosened braid. Her brushstrokes were gentle and somehow soothing, the rhythm of them almost putting me to sleep.

"I think I shall leave your hair loose. It has a good length, and I am tired, my lady. I will retire to my room, if that is all right. Can you manage tonight without me?"

I snorted back a laugh. I had managed all my life till now. It would not be a challenge.

Suni sniffed. "Well, I see you have regained your humor. Good."

I turned around to look at her, puzzled.

Suni's black eyes softened. She cupped a wrinkled hand to my cheek. "He is overly proud, you know, but he means well."

I stiffened.

"As are you. You just need to bend a little."

Probably, but that didn't sit so well with me.

Suni sighed at my sour expression. "You need to listen, and hear," she tenderly tucked my hair behind one ear, "and understand."

I didn't, and she shook her head. "Try understanding where he is coming from, Master Katara, and then you might understand where you _are_ with him."

I blinked, still unsure of what she was trying to say.

Suni shook her head, muttering something about the foolishness of youth, and took her leave. I watched her go, and then turned back to the small mirror that lined the truck's inner lid, a clever vanity of the square cosmetics case. I looked like a child, my eyes tired and my hair hanging wild and free around my face and shoulders. I did not look like what I thought a Fire Lady should, and so was about to close the lid when a sharp knock on the door had me turn as it opened to reveal my lord husband, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"Hi," he said, his glance quickly going around the room before resting back on me.

"What's the matter?" I asked, quickly closing the lid and coming to my feet. He looked almost uncertain, his normally air of cool command gone.

"Nothing, that is, will you--dinner?" He was clearly uncomfortable, shifting his wide shoulders as if his armor sat too heavily upon him.

"Dinner?" I asked, not sure if he were asking if I would dine with him.

"Yes. We will eat, and we will talk." He seemed to take confidence in that rather abrupt command, assuming the mantle of the Fire Lord as if it fit more easily than any other.

My look must have conveyed too much of my irritation, for he stiffened.

"That is, if you will?" It was a grudging concession at best, but there was something in his stiff manner that had me thinking this was hard for him, to ask when he was used to demanding. There was something in the intensity of his gaze, a plea almost, though I could but be imagining it. It softened my own ire, and I nodded.

"Yes. That would be--nice," I said, carefully trying to keep my tone even.

He seemed to take encouragement from that, even unbending enough to smile slightly. He stared at me for a long moment, until I stirred uneasily at the length of his gaze. Shaking himself, he abruptly came back to life. Leaning back out the door, he waved someone forward before stepping back inside to make way for them. His tall, awkward presence made the room seem much smaller than before.

A single servant, dressed in dark maroon, bowed his way inside to set down a tray on the trestle table where Suni and I had taken our tea earlier. Another, and yet another, followed with a veritable feast, steam rising from the dishes they carefully laid out across the small table in a pretty display before bowing themselves out.

I stared at the doorway, surprised as I was to see Iroh briefly lean inside to give me an encouraging wink and a grin. I waved, slightly uncertain as Zuko spun about to confront the old Dragon with a scowl. Iroh gave him an innocent look before pulling the metal door closed with a heavy clang.

"What was that all about?" I asked, curious.

"Nothing," Zuko said irritably as he moved to one corner of the room, unbuckling his heavy breastplate before tugging at the shoulders to remove it. I stood watching him, uncertain if I should take a seat or offer my assistance. The fluted black armor looked heavy, but he lifted it off easily enough, setting it on the empty stand in the corner under a pair of familiar curved swords hanging on the wall.

"Please, sit," he said, tugging at the vambraces on his lower arms and kneeling down to remove his heavy boots and shin guards. It was somewhat too intimate an action for me, though such a simple one. It underlined the fact that this room was one we shared, not one that was mine alone. Blushing, I turned away to seat myself on the low cushion I had used earlier, and pretended not to watch him out of the corner of my eye as he stretched lightly in his long-sleeved under-tunic and breeches. Opening a trunk, he fished out a sleeveless over-tunic, also black, and belted it around his waist, casually slipping a dagger into the sheath at his side.

Steam wafted from the dishes in front of me, and although they smelled delicious, I was not that hungry. Biting my lip, I waited pensively for him to join me, uncertain how to proceed. I looked up as he sighed, running a hand through his topknot as he walked back across the room. Kneeling across from me, he seemed to hesitate before picking up his chopsticks. "Please, serve yourself."

I nodded, picking up my own chopsticks to hover indecisively over the various offerings.

"The fish is good."

Startled by his voice in the awkward silence, I looked up at him. He shrugged. "The seaweed rolls are good, too. Master Sheng is one of the best."

"Master Sheng?" I asked, selecting the tender white meat as he suggested.

"The cook. He's good. One of Iroh's favorite." Zuko made quick work of piling various selections on his plate. Our chopsticks clicked together, going after the same seaweed roll, and I blushed, making a motion for him to take it.

"No, go ahead. I have plenty," he said, spearing a mouthful as if to demonstrate the fact.

"No, that's all right--" He cut me off by neatly picking up the roll and dropping it on my plate. I sat back, ill at ease. "Er--thank you."

He nodded, mouth busy chewing.

I played with my food, worrying a bit of fish away from the larger portion and trying it. The silence drew out between us as Zuko busied himself eating and I fiddled with my food. I put my plate and chopsticks down to pick up my tea, which had grown tepid since first being poured by the servants.

"Want me to heat that up for you?" Zuko abruptly asked, staring at the cup in my hands.

"Ah…no…thank you," I said, ill at ease with the offer. He was quick to nod understanding, but his manner went all stiff again, and I felt like an ass.

"Actually, ah…yes, that would be nice." I hastened to mend my answer.

"What?" He stared up at me, attention taken from the fried chicken-pork rolls he was picking at.

I blushed. "Um, my tea. It would be nice if you heated it up for me. Thanks."

"No problem." He put down his plate and extended his palm. I gently placed the cup in his broad hand, my fingers brushing his at the exchange. Wrapping both hands around the wafer-thin china, which looked ridiculously small in his big palms, he concentrated for a moment, his hands glowing as the tea started to bubble and steam.

I watched in fascination, struck anew by the easiness of the action. I could have heated the tea myself, blowing on it and willing the heat from my damp breath into the golden liquid, but it was not so easily done as it was for him.

He extended it back to me, and I winced and sucked in my breath as my fingers touched the hot surface of the porous china.

"Sorry," he said, chagrined. I shook my head with a weak smile of dismissal, picking up a cloth napkin to take the cup and hold it while it cooled to a temperature I could better stand to sip.

Zuko seemed to stiffen up, the long silence descending between us once more as we each avoided looking at the other. Setting my cup back down, I worried another piece of fish from my plate, savoring the tenderness of it as I studiously tried to pretend that this was not the most awkward meal I had ever attended.

"He would know."

"What?" I asked, looking up at my lord, who cleared his throat.

"Ah, um, Iroh. My uncle. He would know a fine cook--like Master Sheng--if ever one was."

"Oh, yes. I can see that," I said, not knowing what else to say. I blushed, thinking that sounded like an insult. "I mean, uh, that General Iroh seems to know a great many things."

"Yes."

The silence was unbearable. I feathered my chopsticks through my rice, mixing the various vegetables and meat together with no real reason besides keeping my hand busy and my eyes on my plate.

"He likes to eat."

"Who?" I blurted without thinking.

"Iroh."

"Oh." I looked down at my plate again, finally abandoning any pretense of trying to eat. Laying my chopsticks down, I sat back and folded my hands in my lap.

"You've had enough?" There was caution in his voice, as if he didn't know how to take that fact.

"Um, yes. I'm not that hungry," I demurred.

He stiffened up again, a faint frown turning down the edges of his mouth.

"I ate a lot earlier," I offered lamely.

"Oh." He speared a few more pieces onto his plate before sitting back to stare at me. I couldn't quite meet his gaze. Feeling like a coward, and berating myself for it, I glanced back up, to see him staring at some point over my right shoulder. I turned to look behind me at what he was looking at, and his eyes abruptly focused back on mine. The idle thought crossed my bemused mind that his eyes were a rather rich color, the color of golden honey, perhaps, or maybe more of a clear amber.

Whatever it was, it was intense, and I shivered slightly. He shifted his shoulders, full of tension, and said suddenly, "I like turtle ducks."


End file.
